


healing

by stylesoul



Series: Surviving [2]
Category: The 100 (TV), The 100 Series - Kass Morgan
Genre: Child of the sun, F/F, FUCK YOU JASON, Fluff and Smut, Heavy Angst, Old Souls, SO GAY, Sex, Slow Burn Clarke Griffin/Lexa, TW: suicidal thoughts, entertwined souls, gods and goddess, tw: depression, tw: self-harm
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-05
Updated: 2017-09-28
Packaged: 2018-09-15 02:51:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 10
Words: 42,812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9215477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stylesoul/pseuds/stylesoul
Summary: Sets after 2x16.Clarke left her people at the gate of Arkadia after Mount Weather's massacre to try and mend her soul. But solitude and loneliness often lead to depression and she soon found herself drowning deep in an ocean of pain and self-blame.I don't know where the fuck I'm going with this fanfiction (even the title is freacking temporary) but I sure know it is breaking my damn heart. This fanfiction is my way to repair the damages Jason Rothenberg has done.... ((what a fucker)). Before reading this work, I advise you to look at the trigger warnings in the tags. Some chapter could trigger you and I want you to stay safe, sooo yeah.





	1. Destroye(d)r

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: depression, suicidal thoughts, death, anxiety.

    It had been three weeks of wandering and sleepless nights when she started hurting herself. She wasn't doing it knowingly, though. She started to fall twice as often, her knees and hands bleeding and burning. She stopped avoiding branches, brambles, trees. Scratches appeared on every inch of her skin that were not protected by a layer yet thin, but still so, so important of fabric. She eventually stopped cleaning her wounds, secretly hoping for a predator to take her life, but never saying it out loud. She would keep on walking, never stopping until her whole body was giving up and she would lay inconscious on the leaves - safe from nightmares, safe from drowning thoughts.  
    She was still eating and drinking, though. Not in an attempt to take care of herself, but more in a "I deserve to suffer as long as my body let me" kind of vibe. The portion were no more than what would could keep her heart beating and her legs moving ; it was the strict minimum, and Clarke was fine with that.

**

    It had been over a month of desperation, guilt and pain when her mind started to be overwhelmed by the ache. The anxiety attacks appeared, more severe each times they would take over her soul. At some point, the hyperventilation, the dizziness, the pounding heart disapeared into absences. Clarke would fade away, jaw tight, knees weak, silence so _loud_.

**  
One day she woke up, and the desire to keep on going vanished.

That's when her body reached its limits.  
**  
  
     The first thing she saw when her mind roared back to life was the sky. The beautiful, never-ending firmament she had drawed, painted, imagined and dreamt of from the day she was born. Earth was nothing like she had imagined, though. It was more alive, more colourful. Her asthma had disappeared the second she'd stepped foot on the ground. Furthermore, the air of the Earth, impregnated with the smell of everything the sky people only read in books, was so soothing it made the loss of her father and Wells bearable.  
     The first thing she felt when her mind roared back to consciousness was the fever. The burning, deadly fever which had her shaken so hard she thought this, was it. That this was the end. That this was all the souls she had taken and stolen and tortured since her arrival, coming back to end her life. She latter would think that this, was just a pinch. She rolled over, her stomach twisting, trying to throw up something that wasn't there. Clarke wrapped an arm around her middle to ease the pain while she gagged and then fell back down. Swallowing was hard, breathing made her lungs feel like fire, and her eyes burnt each times she would wink, juste like the smell of the bodies in Mount Weather did. She shut her eyes at that thought. She knew, from working with her mother, what she had to do. The fever was probably due to a wound (in reality there were hundreds) infected by Clarke's absence of self-care. She couldn't exactly know at which stage she was in because her condition was also affected by starvation and dehydratation. But from the acute fever, it would only take a few hours before the hallucinations would start and oh god. She knew, she fucking knew all the things she could hallucinate and how much harder they'll be comparing to her nightmares.

She did not move, though.

  
**  
    There were bodies  _everywhere_. No matter where she looked, where she tried not to look, they were there. Watching her, judging her, begging her. Holes occupied the bodies, blood was dripping from their eyes, skin was dripping off their flesh... Clarke got up, arms in front of her to defend herself like she had not already killed enough people before. She spinned around, trying to have all the bodies in sight but it only made it worse and so, she started running. _Please..._ She took turns, tried to ignore how her heart fluttered in her chest, how her lungs were barely sucking up air, how her eyes burnt from all the tears her body could not create but _craved_ to let go. She tried, she tried, she _tried_. But the last thing she saw before she passed out was the burnt corpse of her father, right in front of her. 

**

_What have you done, Klark..._

**

    She had instructed not to act.  _She would come to her senses, em ste no branwoda (she is no fool)_ , had she repeated herself. Her survival instincts would resurface at any moment, she just needed to open her eyes.

    She had instructed not to act. Not to act unless she was about to die.

    And they had acted. 

**  
    Clarke laid incounscious for 3 weeks. The first week was due to her body healing and needing to repair all the damages she had inflected to herself. The second week, Nyko put sleeping herbs in her system so she would stop fighting. And kicking. And screaming while still being incouscious. The third week, he lessened the doses bit by bit until she was able to get a repairing sleep without help. On the second day of the fourth week, she woke up.

**

    Clarke felt warm. She felt... safe. And for a moment she allowed herself to drown in that feeling, to let it soak her to her bones, to let it absorb the pain and the reality that will struck her in a few seconds. She breathed.

_This isn't how you should be feeling._

    Clarke opened her eyes before closing them again, adjusting to the small light of her environment. She took a deep breath and opened them again.  
    There was a roof over her head. Light was coming through the holes of the wooden blinds. A large wooden table was positioned not far from her on which bowls, herbs and leaves lied. The room smelled like medicines, and Clarke looked down.  
    The bruises she got so familiar with were no longer there. Traces of blood had disappeared, leaving her skin looking blank. The scars she got from being so careless did not exist anymore, and Clarke felt like this was her ultimate punishment. All the pain she physically felt, physically endured had vanished. Her body was a blank, unshattered glass she had to smash again. Had to destroy again. Had to desintegrate again. She sat up, threw her bare legs over the bed, letting them float in space for a few seconds while she kept looking around. She took the clean clothes folded on a chair at the end of the bed and brought them to her nose. They smelled like mint. They smelled... clean and fresh and...  _bloodless_. She almost cried. The blonde woman replaced them on her side, not unfolding them and processed to take off the few bondages that still covered her skin. There were only small scratches underneath. As she was heading toward the door in only a large black shirt, it opened to reveal Nyko, not looking surprised by seeing her awake. Not frowning when he saw the used bandages on the table, not frowning when he noticed the clean attire laying on the mattress. He, however, greeted her with a nod full of respect. Clarke watched him move around the room, opening the window, making the bed, cleaning off the table.

"- Thank you." 

    Her voice was a mere whisper. She was sure the healer hadn't heard her, so she tried again but after two months and a half of silence, whispers were the only thing she was able to produce. As he passed her, she touched his bicep so he would stop moving around. 

" - _Ai na sen yu in, Wanheda._ I can hear you."

    Clarke flinched but burried her pupils in Nyko's one. _Thank you._

"- I do as she wishes." She frowned. " _Heda_. I do as she wishes."

    Lost in thought, she didn't hear the door close. She didn't hear the door open once again either.

"- Klark."

**

    _She gained back some weight_ , was the first thought that crossed her mind. _She looks smaller,_ was the second one. _Let me help you,_ was the third one. She stood there for a few minutes, wondering how things could get so out of hand, how the Sky Prisa who's blue eyes were so full of life and hope, could lose herself so deep even she doubted Clarke could come back. _No, I will **not** let her lose herself even more._

"- Klark."

    Those blue eyes, those beautiful blue eyes she loved, craved, needed to drown in everytime she would be near her were no longer there. Those blue, beautiful eyes that once made her forget about all the horror she saw, all the lives she had taken and all the lives that were taken from her had been replaced by grey, lifeless pupils which reminded her once again the monster she is. The eyes she had been seeing in her dreams did not exist anymore, and Alexandria could only blame herself for destroying the life of yet another woman she cherishes.

"- _Heda"_ She murmured. Lexa swallowed. " _Mochof_. For taking care of me.  
\- How are you feeling ?"  _Dumb question, Lexa._  
"- My body has healed."

_"My body has healed, but not my mind." I know Klark, I know, I know._

"- A room has been prepared for you where you will find clean clothes, food, and a bath. I would like you to...  
\- I'm not staying.  
\- I would like you to come and join me for dinner..." She turned around and murmured "Polis has been waiting for you."  _I have been waiting for you._  
"- I'm not st...  
\- Roni will take you.  
\- Lexa..."

But Lexa was already gone.

**

    Clarke couldn't find it in her heart to refuse and turn down Roni, so she followed after her until the chambers the Commander had assigned her, right after Clarke had put on some pants. The grounder was as tall as Clarke. Her brown, braided hair were reaching the middle of her back, tattoos covered evey inch of her skin and she'd thanked her. She had _thanked_ her. For getting her brother out of Mount Weather, for bringing her back the only family she had left, alive. But the thank-you speech had soon vanished when the Grounder saw Clarke agonizing and furious look. She thought _Wanheda_ was still healing from her wounds. Clarke tried not to be angry, not to shout at her to shut her damn mouth and fucking move already, but she wasn't able to suppress those feelings. How dare she ? How dare she fucking thank her when she had wiped out an entire people ? When she had burnt three hundred of her people alive ? When she would do it again, to an even larger scale if she had to ? And, most of all, how could Carke not think about them for a second ? She was fuming. Not against Roni anymore, but against herself. She was a monster. She _deserved_ to be drowning in all the blood she'd shed since her arrival. She _deserved_ to be slapped, spit at, burnt, _tortured_. But then here she was, about to take a bath and have a proper meal afterwards. She was pathetic.  
    Roni stopped in front of a large, double door and opened it for her. There was a large corridor which led to a room three times larger than her cell on the Ark. To her right was a king-sized, four-poster bed surrounded by light, gold curtains. The sun was passing through two large windows, illuminating every fourniture. To her left was another door leading to a whole porcelain bathroom. This place seemed... Out of time. Clarke walked to the bed and ran her fingers through the furs. She felt safe in here. Weirdly untouchable.

« - _Heda_ has assigned you this room for as long as you wish to stay in Polis. A bath has been prepared thus new clothes. If you need anything, I am to help you. Just call my name and I will be here. »  
  
    Just as Roni had closed the door behind her, Clarke rushed to open one of the windows. Her heart was pounding so hard she thought the whole building was trembling too. Her hands were shaking, her head was spinning and she _begged_ , she _begged_ for someone to end this. _Please, please..._

**

    The fog was surrounding her. It was envelopping her figure with a thick, warm, protecting cloak. Like a second skin. She tried to stay away from the bath, from the whole bathroom. But then, she thought about the people who had worked to prepare this bath and she felt obliged to honor their work. Before she stepped into the hot water, she took a washcloth to wash herself so the dirt wouldn't turn the bath brown. Her movements were gentle, soft. She remembered her dad doing the same motions to take away the remains of her food battle with Wells when she was eight. How he scolded her with a small smile on his lips while her mother was screaming at how selfish and childish this all was. She shook her head before she took another washcloth and entered the bath. A sigh immediatly escaped her lips. She felt her muscles loosen up, her heartbeats become steady and the fog she had been in for the last two months lessened. It faded away a tiny bit, its thickness reduced and the air filled her lungs. She breathed, truly breathed for the first time in what felt like ages.

It was.

    From the first time since her tiny, strong feet stepped on the ground, life kept on throwing fists and spears, knives and acid frog at her. Life swept its legs in hers, making her fall head first in the dirt. People started relying on her, trusting her to keep them safe, alive. They turned to her when they were unsure of what was coming next. Even though there were many other wanting to lead, they _chose_ her. They put their faith in her to guide them, feed them, love them and protect them. She sketched lodges to be built. She practiced making fire – desperate to remember what she'd learned in Earth skills classes – so she could then teach her people and show them that she could, indeed, take care of them. She manufactured shooting ranges so they could learn how to protect themselves. She set up chores, tasks, parties such as hunting, cooking, scouts. Slowly, Clarke was able to somewhat control the remaining delinquents without putting a leash on them, without restraining them from who they were and wanted to be. They were her people now. Her love for them was growing, eating her alive. It was overwhelming, sometimes a burden but her love remained undying.

Still, it was not enough.

    Skaikru continued on being reckless. They made ignorant decisions without asking Clarke for hers first. They ignited fights between their own, fought for dominance, for power. They fought over food, over water, over a place around the different fires in Arkadia even if they were far from being crowded. They lost themselves in the never-ending forest, stepping right into what did not belong to them. They took what wasn't theirs to take. They ended people's lives, they killed non-threatening people, and they stole Clarke's hope and innocence. Then, when chaos was surrounding them, when big, life-changing choices had to be made, when the consequences of their acts were bitting them right in the ass, they looked at Clarke. They looked at her like she was holding the answers to _every_ problems they created – and there were shit tons of them. They took their fear out on her through rage, anger and blame. The Delinquents were good at sowing troubles but they were _incapable_ of dealing with their aftermaths. They were just kids, after all. Clarke was too, but she forgot about it. And so she did what was expected of her. She shot, threw grenades, knives, arrows. She closed the door of the bunker and burnt three hundred warriors alive. She bled one of her own, pulled the blade deep into his stomach to prevent him from a deserving, but still painful death. She looked at his blood plastered on her hands. At this blood that wouldn't leave her skin, that stained her soul so deep it left a mark she would forever carry. She pulled a lever and commited genocide. She ended an entire people to ensure her own people's survival. And she would do it all over again. Anytime. Clarke loved her people to death but even Death could not reach her. She defied the odds, threw back Death to the enemy. She controlled it, owned it. Death was at her mercy, but Clarke just wouldn't accept it. All she was willing to see and understand was that everyone she ever encountered, everyone who ever crossed her path had met with Death. She was sowing it everywhere she would go. It was following her like her own shadow. Unyielding.  
    Clarke woke up with silent tears running down her cheeks. She missed them. She missed Octavia, Jasper, Monty, Raven. Her mom. She missed the young teenagers who would come running to her when they had learnt something new. The guards who'd stand somewhat taller when Clarke was passing by, who would come back from the hunt with their hands full of dead animals and make sure that Clarke, their leader, was aware of their hard work. And she was. But there were more important matters to take care of, such as righting their wrongs and defeating the Mountain. God, she hoped they were not being reckless again. If she was forced to go back to Arkadia and inflict what she was best at, she'd never come back from this.

    When she started shivering, she got out of the porcelain bathtub and dried herself up before exiting the washroom, towels around her shape. The sun catched her presence and laid its rays on Clarke.

**

    She never, in her life, wore garments this comfortable. She'd had the choice between two "bras". The first one was a black binder which seemed too skintight for her taste, and the second one looked more like a clothing from the old-wold. It was less tight than the binder but still tight enough that Clarke's generous breast looked as if it was three times smaller. The black, leather-like material covered her chest and stopped at the commencement of her neck. Her back was covered the same way with large straps linking front and back. The pants she had on hugged her legs like second skin. The black leather was highlighting her every curves but let her move freely without any barriers, small traces of gold were on the outside of each legs. The long-sleeved tunique was thicker around her arms but widened around her hips to end in the middle of her butt. She was dressed all black and Clarke felt, once again untouchable.  
    Sat crossed-legs on the balcony of her chambers, she took in the city ahead of her. To say it was huge was an understatement. It was... phenomenal. High up in what she assumed to be a tower, she could barely see the large wooden walls surrrounding the city. Houses from the old world stood tall amidst the hand-made but fierce new ones. The market started into the center of the citadel and propagated itself into its veins. Clarke could see small fires flaming at each stands, people screaming their new consignments, the streets buzzing with grounders. She never saw that many grounders in one place. _Even TonDC was less crowded._ Clarke flinched. _They should be scared to allow me here._

  _I'll destroy everything._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooooo, I hope you enjoyed this chapter as much as I did writing it. This is my first attempt at writing an english clexa fanfic (i'm french) so, feedbacks are appreciated!!  
> I'll post the next chapter when the fourth one will be done, hopefully by the end of the week !  
> See you soon and don't let anything harsh your mellow


	2. The Commander's mask

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't think there is a need for trigger warnings in this chapter, maybe for the mention of death ?

    Lexa woke up before the first rays of sunshine illuminated her village. She stayed in bed, eyes closed for a split minute, soothed by the quietness of the moment before her mind assailed her with memories of last night.  
     She had been this torn only once: when Costia's head was brought to her. When she had to decide between avenging her death and assuring the Coalition's future. And once again, she'd had to listen to her head. When Cage Wallace offered her the deal, she looked back to see all her warriors dead in only minutes by the old-world weapons. The choice was made. It was easy. But then, she'd cought a glimpse of gold hair, remembered blue, piercing eyes ; unwavering hope and strength for peace. Her heart had thundered and broke in her chest all at once. Her duties came first, she knew that. But she also knew this deal would cost her much. So _Heda_ chose for her.  
    After returning from the Moutain, they'd settled in a small trikru vilage. Polis was way too far-off for the army. The past-captives were weak and fragile, soldiers had been shot and blood was leaking through their wounds. TonDC had been destroyed by the devil's weapon, it wasn't going to be rebuilt any time soon. The damages were too great.  
Lexa'd made sure everyone had a place to sleep in for the night before she went to meet with Indra. _"Send sentinels along with Ryder to watch Arkadia for any return of Skaikru. If they are not back by tomorrow evening, they are to go to the Moutain and seek informations."_ With that, the warrior had left to apply _Heda's_ commands.  
Her Commander Mask in place, she'd checked on every wounded. She'd stopped to every house, had sat next to each and every single warriors present in the households and told them she was proud of them, glad they were finally free ; that their family will be waiting for their homecoming in Polis with a feast to celebrate their freedom. She then had given a proper grounder shake, hands tight around the owners' forearm with a nod.  
    From the outside, Lexa looked as calm and put together as she always does. Head high and eyes set, she looked fierce, strong, determined. Power and strength emanated within her every steps. She looked in control. But you see, walls are put up for a reason. Whether it is to remain strong, to distance yourself from your feelings and your peers or because you're not in a safe enough environment to let it all out, walls do exist. But walls, like people, shatter. They fissure. They weaken, crumble, break until what used to be held safe leak in crushing waves. When Lexa entered her tent hours after retreating from the damned land, safe within the walls of her beloved tent, she shattered. The anguish, the fear, the guilt... They all rushed back to her. Lexa cried on her knees, arms tightening around her belly as the pain flooded ; as her soul screamed for the torture to stop, begged for it to just let her be. _Please, please STOP..._ She prayed to every god and goddess she knew about, from the old-word to the present one. She apologized for all the mistakes she'd made since she sat on the throne. For all the innoncent lives she had stolen. For the betrayal.  
    For hurting Clarke.  
    And just like that, it ended. The world stopped spinning, her heart went back to a decent race, air entenred her lungs. She could breathe. Four hours of sleep later and she could still feel the ache that had settled in her chest ; the crushing, sunking feeling that it would never quite disappear. Lexa got up and processed to dress. She had duties to take care of and her people came first. They always would. As she stepped outside her tent, Ryder approached her.

" - _Skaikru_ have returned to Arkadia. Some were deaply injured and were carried back to safety but their number is intact. No one died." He paused to look at his leader before he carefully continued. "Klark kom Skaikru left her people at the gate.  
\- Was she wounded ?  
\- No." The commander took a deep breath and nodded.  
"- Follow her. I want a report by the time the sun comes down. If something happen you will immediatly inform me."

    With that, her bodyguard left to execute her orders. She didn't have the time to think about Clarke, but yet she did. Her gaze fell to the ground and lingered there for a few moments. If Skaikru was alive, it meant the Mountain had been defeated. If Klark had left her reckless people despite everything she'd done for them, she could only imagine what she did to _Maunde (The Mountain)_. Clarke emerged victorious from each battle. No matter how unprepared and unskilled she was, Death seemed incapable of reaching her. She seemed to own it, control it. When Finn was tied up to a pole, surrounded by thousands of bloodthirsty warriors willing to kill both of them, when she held on tight to the knife in her hand directed for the Commander, she had calmed the shadows screaming at her to spill her blood. She walked head high and jaw set, her eyes fixed on the murder and took his life. But even after having hundreds of people's death inscribed on her soul, she still was aware of the cost of life. She still believed in it. Still believed life to be beautiful and worth-fighting for. Her words were engraved in Alexandria's soul and she found them once again whispered in her head. _"Maybe life should be about more than just surviving."._  
,  
**

    Two hours after Ryder's departure, Lexa sent a group of four healers to assist Skaikru into treating the wounded. The Sky people defeated the Mountain, brought it down to its knees. The past-captives were back where they belonged, alive but deeply injured. Mount Weather was a place ruled by horror. They were heartless... _Keyronna (souless)_... They were savages willing to use every imaginable ways to achieve their goal. It did not matter how much blood was shed in the process, how many screams were lost to the capters' ruthlessness, they still did not stop. They continued on abducting people, on draining their blood until its last drop, on depriving them of their soul. Clarke's people had won this war, of course they were hurt. But still, she couldn't supress the fact that they must be angry. Retaliating in their condition was reckless, but Lexa couldn't close her eyes on this possibility and risk her people's lives. Her people were wounded too. So she sent those healers not only as an aid, but also as spies, as a test. The path the Sky people will choose to march on will testify of their mindset.  
    Heda needed to know where they stood.  
    Lexa needed to make amend to Clarke.  
    And no matter how hard she tried to suppress this thought, it remained there. Alexandria would help and heal and take care of Clarke's people in her absence. Heda would watch and observe and spy. Those were her duties as both a human and The Commander. She would honor both.

**  
    Kane came to the village at the beginning of the evening. The ground was muddy with the humidity of the day, the sun was getting lower by the minutes. Grounders were keeping the fires alive, kids were running around with swords made of wood, clash of silver against silver were joining with the brouhaha of people's chatter. The small town was full of life, but the noises soon faded away as the Chancellor kept on walking further in, with two guards armed with rifles. The four healers were following them, untouched and safe.  
    They had been of a tremendous help. Many, so many, too many of his people were injured, including Abby, their one true doctor and real Chancelor. In a few hours, the gounders going by the names of Arya, Guf, Rus and Kira had proved themselves effectives and many Sky people had been assisted. To say that he'd been suprised by the grounders apperance was an understatement. When Heda left them at the foot of Mount Weather, he thought that it ended every hope of a possible peace and alliance. That what the two people were sharing now gone, Heda really had no use of them. But the shaky alliance was still standing. Of course, many were angry. Some even refused to be touched by the four healers until their pain was just too much to bear. And then, the hatred calmed for both people. The Grounders got nicer, some even sketched a smile. Peace and understanding was possible, and Kane would try his hardest for all of this not to go to waste.  
   As he got closer to the Commander's tent, the starring became more and more noticeable. People stopped their occupation to glare at the three Skaikrus. Just one wrong look, one wrong gesture and they'd have their head on a spike. Kane gave them no reason to do so.  
  
" - Lay your weapons. No one enters this tent with the devil's tools" Spat Indra.  
\- Of course."

    So Kane entered the tent weaponless, instructing his guards to stay outside. He needed the Commander to trust him and his actions. To believe his sincerity and respect.  
   Lexa sat on an enourmous chair, braids running down her hair. The Commander headpiece between her brows, face bare from any warpaint. There was no visible sign of hostility, aside from the angry and wary glances her guards would send him. To the right side of the tent was a thick, long kaki tarpaulin hiding the other room from inquisitive eyes. Kane refocused on his environment and counted seven warriors, including Indra, the chief of TonDC standing to the Commander's left. Three warriors were positioned on each side of the room, facing and a few meters away from each other. The Chancelor was encircled. One abrupt or false move and he'd be dead in a blink of an eye. He lowered his head as a sign of respect before speaking.

"- _Heda_.  
\- Kane" She returned his gesture before the two pairs of eyes met. "Have you received my healers ?  
\- Yes, thank you. They were of a great and useful help." He inhaled. I know things didn't go as planned, and as much as what happened to Mount Weather wavered a possible and much needed alliance, my hope for uniting our people hasn't changed.  
\- What about your people ?  
\- They are angry, hurt and confused, I won't lie to you. But they will come to understand, just like I did."

    Heda maintained her pupils onto the man standing before her, scrutinizing him. Kane had always been a man of great intelligence and generosity. She knew that from the moment she met him, in the donjon. He was dedicated to his people, often saw what they could not see but still struggled from taking harsh, necessary decisions. And that's what made Clarke more of a leader than him : her ability to be merciful and hard. To recognize the greater good for her people on a larger scale and to make the choices that would benefit her _kru (people)_ the most. But Clarke wasn't here today, and Lexa had to deal with Kane. So she spoke again:

" - I will not hurry an alliance I am not sure will hold. Both our people need time to heal and to think. Nevertheless, I count on you to prepare your people's mind and open them to a possible coalition.  
\- Sha, Heda."

    As he turned to leave the tent, he faced The Commander once again.

"- Do you... Do you have news of Clarke ? She left this morning at the gate of Arkadia." He added, knowing that she was indeed aware of that.  
\- I don't."

    Kane set his jaw before nodding.

"- She wiped them all. Children, gulties, innocents... They're all dead. The Mountain is now empty except for the corpses... She'll go back there."

    She nodded before he left the tent. She'd understood Mount Weather to be destroyed and the weight added onto Clarke's shoulders, but the fact that children were now dead too only added more guilt and self-hatred onto her. Clarke did not only kill the criminals, she did not only answer blood by blood... She ended the sinless, the ignorants, the stainless. Lexa rose before her chair.

"- Spread words of _Maunde's_ defeat. _Jus don ge gana jus. (Blood have answered blood). No bash up na komba raun gon Skaikru (No harm will come to the Sky people)_."

    Her guard left to apply her orders and Indra followed to take care of other needs. Spreading words of Clarke's accomplishments will earn her respect and a somewhat safety. Less individuals will attempt to hurt her, some may even be scared of her. If she couldn't be safe from herself or the wild, she could be from humans. Indra entered back the tent.

"- Ryder has come back.  
\- Let him in and leave us."

    As Ryder entered, she was able to see the sky turning deep blue.

"- You are late." She stated and the warrior dropped to his knees.  
\- _Wigod op ai, Heda. (Forgive me, Heda)._  
\- _Gyon op. (rise)_ "

The soldier was unarmed and healthy. His knives and swords were still in place, no traces of blood stained the deathly silver blades. Eveything looked regular and yet, his eyes betrayed what Lexa knew too well : pain. She raised her chin and locked her fierce eyes with him.

"- _Chich op. (talk)_  
\- _Klark kom Skaikru_ is safe. I followed her like I was ordered to. She seemed to be aimlessly wandering through the woods at first, picking up bays that she ate while walking. She stopped to fill her canteen at a _klinrona (river)_ but never paused until she arrived at the feet of _Maun-de._ She entered but I remained in the trees. She... She first processed to take out the corpses of the maunon children and - Ryder fell back to his knees.  
\- You enterviened." Lexa stated.  
\- _Sha, Heda_. I disobeyed your order.  
\- You did nothing wrong, Ryder. Rise again and finish your report. My patience runs low today.  
\- _Sha."_ He said, bowing his head as he stood up again. "She already knew I was there. She was struggling to drag the bodies so I came and helped her. The corpses, they were... melted. Their face was twisted with horror and pain, skin was missing, bones had holes in them. Some had lost their eyeballs... We burned the youngs. And then the people that had helped them. We inflamed the gulties.  
\- Did she say anything ?  
\- Klark whispered that she had killed them all." He answered, his eyes searching for an answer.  
\- It's true, indeed. Go back and follow her. Do not intervene unless she's in danger. I want a report every three days."

_I am sorry..._

**

    Cries of joy and happiness erupted from every directions. Tears were soaking up the floor, embraces created more warmth than every fires of the capital combined. Bliss irradiated the whole city. As Lexa marched onto the streets of Polis to arrive to the main square, teary-eyed people took her hands and thanked her. They poured all their heart and love and admiration in their eyes and let Lexa let herself drown in it. Hundreds, thousands of people from all the twelve clans were marching behind her as they climbed the streets. Chants of " _Heda_!" followed her every steps. The trading stands were all closed tonight as the whole coalition came together to celebrate the defeat of the Mountain. People traveled for days on horse ride or on foot. They came by boat through days of travel. Each clan had brought food and drinks for the celebration, and gifts for their Commander. The celebration will end when the sun will rise.  
    They finally arrived to the Grand-Place where the throne, huge and intimidating was positionned on a rostrum. Off stage, to its right and its left was a table where six ambassadors were seated. The tables were covered with a dark blue nap. The place was clear for the grounders to dance and enjoy themselves, many other wooden tables were in front of the Commander's throne but the empty, clear square separating them. The people stayed behind as their Heda climbed the stairs to her throne. She faced them and stood there for a few seconds, stance set and strong as she acknowledged her people. And when she finally sat, quietness settled on the capital as every single one grounder dropped to their knees, head almost touching the dirt. Lexa took in the view with burning eyes.

"- _Gyon op. (rise)_ "

    And they did so. Many looked greatful for her. Some cried silent tears as they watched her, held their relatives close by their shoulders or by their hands, always tucking them a bit closer. But still, amidst the loving, endearing and appreciative looks, Alexandria met hatred and anger from some. There were only a few she could see, but she knew many other felt the same way. She didn't answer blood by blood. She didn't avenge her people's deaths, took down the _Maunde_ and shed their blood. She did not honor their tradition and lifestyle. Alexandria had let them down. During her three weeks in the small village, she'd had the time to go over and over the consequences of her actions. They will see her weak, incapable of leading and protecting her people. They may start to question her position and ability to fight for her people. Some could even start questioning the Coalition. Tonight was the time to adress and try to calm these thoughts.

“- Three weeks ago, our people joined _Skaikru_ in defeating _Maun-de_. We stood together as one on this damned land, on this territory soaked in our family's and loved ones blood. And still, as we were fighting they used the devil's weapons and shed more of our blood. Our warrior showed true strength, courage and volition. They fought like true grounders. But it did not stop the blood from leaking through their wounds. I made sure that not only did we come back with the captives, but with a large and very much alive army too. And today, we welcome lovers and relatives back where they belong: in the safety of their family's embrace.” Lexa paused as cheers echoed. “I know some of you are angry and still fear the threat of _Maungedakru (mountain people)._ But today, I am here to confirm the rumors to be true. The Mountain has been brought to its knees by the hands of _Klark kom Skaikru_ ! No one remains alive !” People roared with relief. Lexa raised her voice once again, full with power. “This means no more _reapa_ !” Another round of cheers shook Polis. “ This means no more missings ! This, marks the end of a hundred year old war !”

    The place went crazy. Cries, laughs, relief, happiness and sadness encountered each people. The ground was shaking with each wave of feelings, each jump and hug. Love lightened the whole city. Lexa who had stood up from adrenaline sat back down.

“- Polis, I count on you to give a proper welcome-celebration to our loved ones !”

    And so the night went on.  
    Moonshine filled every cup, meat and mashed potato satisfied the hunger of everyone. Hundreds were dancing to the drums, guitars and flutes. Hips swang around, bodies held against bodies watzeled. They jumped and sang and drank until they could no longer stand properly and passed out on a corner of a street. Polis bounced with them. The capital seemed covered by a warm, protective glow tonight.  
    Lexa sat on her throne and watched her people dance with a loving gaze. Some women came up to dance in front of her. Their hair was flowing with the winds, curves underlined by the glow of the many fires. Their hands ran slowly over their shape, just like Lexa's eyes did. She will take one to bed tonight, she was sure of that.

**

    Hours later and Lexa was still sitting on her throne. Her belly was fuller and a cup of alcohol ran through her veins. She won't drink any more tonight. She needed to stay alert for any possible threat, and required a clear head to handle the ambassdors' bullshit, whether they'll come barking at her tonight, or in the morning.  
    The nightbloods stood removed from the party, back straight and jaw tight while Titus watched them carefully. She remembered those nights like they were yesterday. The itch in her hand, the craving of having fun fluttering in her chest. How after these nights she dreamt of dancing with Anya, of tasting the grilled meat from the previous hunt. She remembered the tapping of her fingertips on her thighs, how Titus made her next morning-training so intense and harsh the healer didn't even know where to start. Her hatred and irritation for the man only grew more and more from this day on. And still tonight, years after this probation, Alexandria could feel the anger boiling in her stomach. She hated the bald man and his devastating teachings, but there was no one to replace him - yet. So she bore with him and tried to teach the nightbloods as often as she could. It was small, but it was all she could give.  
    Erik, the ambassador of the Plain Riders, came before her and bowed.

"- _Heda._  
_\- Bandrona (ambassador)."_ She returned the gesture. "Thank you for the vegetables. Our warriors' stomack are full and our children are fatter because of you.  
\- It's a pleasure. Some of my people were captive too."

    Lexa nodded and eyed once again the crowd after loud cheers erupted.

"- Rumors are spreading."

    The Commander shot a glare in his direction and stood even more straighter. She knew what he was talking about. She'd heard a few being whispered in the village she was in that would turn into silence when she was coming near. Rumors were a threat to her reign.

"- _Kigon (keep going)._  
\- Her acccomplishments are travelling on each territory, and fast... People are saying she is _Wanheda, Hed..._  
\- _Heda kom Wamplei, ai get in." (commander of Death, I know)_

    They fell into silence. Erik knew better than to continue this conversation after her tone. Of course he thought The Commander had heard the tells, but he felt it was his duty to inform her about the situation. He owed his place to her. When the last ambassador of the Plain Riders died, Lexa had made it clear that she deemed him the best to represent them.  
    After a few more moments of utter silence, the man bowed his head and left her with her thoughts.

**

    Lexa woke up naked, to a now empty bed. She had come back from the celebration not long after Erik had come and ruined her mood, a beautiful blonde next to her. Lexa got up and put her gear on before a knock was heard.

"- _Min op !" (Enter)_

    As the man entered, Lexa quicky swallowed. She hadn't had news in a week, when she was still at the village. They were good, back then. Clarke was drinking, eating. Nightmares occupied her dreams but this was a cost leaders often paid for their actions. But still, every time he would come back for their weekly meeting, Lexa could not stop the anguish to settle in her chest. Today was nothing out of the ordinary. Clarke would still be fine, and Lexa's fears would still be unfounded.

"- _Heda"_  He bowed.  
\- Ryder. What are the news ?"

And then, she saw it. The deep breath he tried to hide. How he processed to think of a way to start, without hurting her. _No. Everything is fine._

"- _Chich op. Nau. (Speak. Now.)_  
\- Things have changed... Klark no longer takes care of herself. She barely sleeps. She walks until her body and her mind collapse. She eats and drinks too little with the amount of walk she does. She stays in the cold. Does not lit any fire. She..." Ryder paused to look at his Commander. What he is about to tell her shows weakness.  
"- Go on.  
\- She..." He braced himself before sweetening his words. "A lot of scratches and cuts are appearing on her skin each day, and _Wanheda_ has stopped cleaning them and herself.  
\- Are you saying she is purposefully harming herself ?  
\- ... _Sha_."  
  
    Lexa turned her back to him to take a deep breath. _No, Klark is okay. She's just lost. She will find her path and herself again. She just needs time._

"- Should I interviene ?  
\- No.  
\- _Heda_ , I am afraid she will get an infection.  
\- I. Said. No !" She turned back to him. "She will come to her senses !"

   It was more of a prayer than anything else but Lexa didn't back down. _Klark will heal. She will come back from whatever place she's in. She will rise once again. That's what she does. Clarke gets knocked down and gets back up. She. will. rise._

**  
  
    There had been just so many councils in the last three weeks. After the celebration, the _bandrona (ambassadors)_ had stayed to talk about the Mountain and what its defeat implied for the Coalition now that their common threat was gone. Lexa had spent hours and hours reassuring them and telling them how the _Kongeda_ benifited everyone. How it prevented the clans from killing each other, how it guaranteed unlimited amout of foods and goods and a lasting peace for children and families. Today was the last meeting before they would return to their respective clan and Lexa knew she'd need all the strength and serenity to go through this. They had flown over the _Wanheda_ case, and each time Alexandria had changed the subject. There was always this part of her taking over when Clarke was involved. She hated it. She was not weak. But today, they both knew they couldn't avoid this matter. So Lexa stood even straighter and more intimidating on her throne as the amabassadors took their place on the large wooden table. She took a deep breath before speaking. Starting the "conversation" was a way to own it, and have some bits of control.

"- Today is the time we discuss about _Wanheda_. I know a lot of you have been craving to treat this matter and here is your chance."

Lexa had barely finished her sentence when someone spoke.

"- _Oso gaf sen frag em op_ !" _(we need to kill her)_

    Hatred and anger boiled in her stomach as the _Azplana (Ice queen)_ stated her thoughts. Nods and agreeing words followed her statement by some women and men. Those that had been the hardest to persuade to enter and then stay in the Coalition.

"- Not everything can and should be resolved with death. _Wanheda_ is no threat to us. _Non get klin taim em ste kik raun. (Nobody knows if she is alive.)_  
\- So what ? We should just wait ?" Asked Uzac, ambassador of the Broadleaf clan.  
"- Sha. There is no need to fatigue our warriors when there is no threat to be seen. And if she lives, we have no reason to shed her blood.  
\- We have no reasons?" Uzac laughed. "She's killed three hundred of your warriors! Her _niron (lover_ ) killed innocent people for her! _Jus drein jus daun!_  
_\- Em lid in wamplei eweron em kaump raun! (She brings death wherever/everywhere she goes !)_  
_\- Wamplei gon Wanheda!"_

    Shouts filled the room. The twelve ambassadors argued on Clarke's fate, and fists hit the table. Lexa ran her right hands on her forehead while she inhaled. She needed to save her. She needed her alive, not dead by the Azplana's blade.

"- _Noumou !" (Enough !)_

    The room became quiet again and the men and women that had stood up, sat down again.

"- _Klark kom Skaikru don ge gana jus kon jus !_ ( _Clarke of the Sky people has answered blood by blood)_ She has defeated _Maun-de (Mount Weather)_ in her people's name and in _our_ name ! _Em don goch os stedaunon klin ! (She avenged our deads !)_ Klark is an ally, not an enemy. She is to be respected !

    The ambassadors agreeing with Nia, the _Azgeda Kwin_ , looked down before nodding. If some still had reserves, they didn't show it. _Heda_ was furious and they knew better than to push her buttons even farther if they didn't want to be pushed over the balcony. The meeting continued on and on as they explored lighter subjects. Lexa succeeded onto saving Clarke this time, but she may not be able to do so the next.

**

"- You cannot aford to have a weakness on the battlefield. You" she stroke "must, "she clashed her swords against his "be"she pushed her swords against Aden's and put her feet on his abdomen, "infallible." She said, towering his body, the tip of her blade on his neck. "Or you will die."

    She extended her hand to help him get back up. Aden was one of his most promising _natblida_ but he still was slack on some aspects of his training. They walked to the ten other children sitting on the grass, watching them. The boy sat amongst them and Lexa remained stood up.

"- Remember to be ready for any strikes coming from your enemies. You can not have any weaknesses, but you can and must have strenghts. I do not have weak points but I am fast and swift. Those are my forces."

    The children nodded and looked at each other, wondering whether or not they should ask and voice out loud their worries. A small girl named Willa raised her hand.

"- Go ahead.  
\- Are the rumors about _Wanheda_ true ?  
\- It depends. What are they saying ?  
\- They say she's an angry spririt driven by hunger and thirst for blood.  
\- Do you believe them, Willa ?  
\- I..." She looked down, cheeks red.  
\- _Wanheda_ commands Death. She owns it, controls it." Stated Lexa. "But _Wanheda_ only lashes out on guilties.  
\- That's not what the people are saying..." Rasped a small child.  
\- And what do they say ?  
\- They... They say she feeds from blood. That she strikes when she is in withdrawal, or angry. I saw people putting offerings on their doorstep when night comes, to calm her spirit and spare them."

    Lexa swallowed and her eyes went bigger. She wasn't aware of that. She thought rumors to be small and innocent, not fed by legends and myths. Lexa had heard these stories when she was a child. How the past _Wanheda_ was a descendant from chaos and evil. How she would act in the shadows, how she'd killed hundreds by a small gesture of a hand. Back then, her _nomon_ had told her that the people were putting oblation on their doorstep so they could be untouched and alive the next morning.  
   Klark was indeed the Commander of Death. Everything was matching : the countless deaths, the blood, the victories, her being alive after every single battle when she had no clue what she was doing or had to do. But Klark was not like the last because Klark ruled with her heart. She was capable of love, mercy and forgiveness as much as she was fierce and strong and fearless. Lexa did not quite know what to feel. A part of her was beeming with pride at Clarke's new reputation, but another broke at the _natbilda's_ words. She was nothing like the rumors made her seem to be. Lexa sat in front of them.

"- When I was a child, _ai nomon (my mother)_ told me about the first _Wanheda_. She was a kid when _Wanheda_ died but _ai nomom_ remembered everything.  
    "- She loved the sight and the taste of blood. Hearing screamings of utter pain and horror made her chest roar with pride and happiness. People were putting offerings on their frontdoor so they could be spared. But, you see, I met the new _Wanheda_ , gasps echoed around her as the nightbloods' eyes grew big. I sat at a war table with her. I saw her sacrifice her _niron_ to save her people. I saw her grant mercy. She loves, deeply. But she hates iniquity. She hates injustified violence. _Wanheda_ sheds blood and commands Death when we deserve it. Nothing will happen to you if you don't. This time is nothing like the last."

   Lexa's words rang the end of their training session and the nightblood lined to leave. As she turned around, she saw Titus approach her while Ryder remained in the shadow of the trees. She sighed. Today was their weekly meeting and Lexa felt stressed enough not to add an angry, bothering Titus on her shoulders. Nevertheless, she walked to meet the bald man.

"- Titus.  
\- Heda." He bowed. "I heard you talking to the _natbilda_ about the past _Wanheda_. Then you must remember what happened to her.  
"- Titus." She warned. (  
\- Malyia killed her and became the most powerful _Heda_ we have ever seen. She absorbed her power and that's what you must do ! _Frag em op ! (kill her )_  
\- Titus !" She took a threatening step. "I will not hear this again. I will not kill Klark. Malyia was indeed powerful, but she did more wrong and shed more blood than did the three former Commanders combined. This, is not the legacy I want to pass.  
\- _Ba Heda_ (but) -  
\- I think you forget where your place is, Titus." She cut him off, towering over him, voice low. "Be careful. Do not think you are irreplaceable.  
\- _Sha, Heda,_ he bowed and left."

    She took a deep, calming breath as the _fleimkepa_ left her sight. Oh god, how much she wished to replace him... She turned her head to the right as Ryder left the woods. Once again, she inhaled. Clarke had been wandering for over a month and a half now. Each week, the news worsened. Last time, Ryder interviened to prevent a wild animal from killing her in her sleep, attracted by her smell and her cries. Multiple times, he'd had to put a firm hand to her mouth in her sleep, to prevent scavengers from getting too close. She was reckless, unstable and weak. But still, Lexa ordered him not to act. As he came near her, Lexa spoke.

"- Let's walk."

   And so they did. They stayed in silence for a couple of minutes, Alexandria enjoying this rare moment of quietness and peace and Ryder preparing his words. The warrior knew his news were hurting his Commander each week. So he tried to sweaten them up while respecting his duties. But once again, things had changed. To the worse. They stopped on a bench made of tree trunks and sat.

"- _Chit bilaik telon ? (~what are the news ?)_  
\- I don't think she will hold any longer.  
\- I don't want to know what you think, I want to know the facts, she spats.  
\- _Sha, Heda..._ She has lost a lot of weight this week. She stopped drinking and I had to pour water in her throat while she... slept. Her nightmares have worsened.  
\- What abour her anxiety attacks ?  
\- They changed. Her breathing is no longer fast and jerky. She has absences. She lays on the dirt and makes no move and no sound for hours. She does not even see me when I come down from the trees to check her pulse.  
\- Her wounds ?  
\- She gets more and more of them. Her body is too weak to heal, she is vulnerable to any infections.  
\- This is the last time I repeat myself Ryder. Do not act unless she is about to die. Is there anything else ?

    Ryder carefully looked at her before continuing. He didn't like his Commander's orders, but he would obey. It is not his place to question her jugdments and choices, no matter how much he came to care for the powerful blonde.

"- Last night she...  
\- She what?" Lexa demanded, growing more and more tired from his hesitation.  
\- She cried your name."

**

    She was fighting with Willa when it happened. When she heard the hurrying, messy footsteps approaching. Lexa threw her wooden sword, took out her deadly blade with one swift movement and turned around, the tip of her blade against the intruder. Her eyes went wide.

"- _Weron em kamp raun ?_  
\- She was taken inside the tower. Nyko is at her side."

    Lexa ran off with Ryder. _This is not happening. This is not happening._ She sped up her race. _This is way too far_. The two grounders soon arrived to the cobblestone streets of Polis, not slowing when they pushed people. Not slowing when children squealed " _Heda_ ". Not slowing when Lexa's legs shook under her fear.  
    The grounders guarding the tower rushed to open the doors. She didn't stop when Titus came to talk to her. She didn't even see him. Her goal was to reach Clarke. This was simple. This was it. _Klark, Klark, Klark_. Lexa opened the door and rushed inside.

"- How is she ?" she asked, not being able to hide her worries behind her commander mask. Not even thinking about hiding them.

    And then she heard it. The panting, the scoffs, the screams. Hidden behind Nyko and his apprentice, she could see the bed shaking under Clarke's pain. She could hear semblance of her name being whispered. Cries of pain and sadness and dread from what remained of her hallucinations. She should have listened to Ryder. This is her fault. Clarke is in pain and it is her fault. Lexa towered the healers and saw exposed skin. Raw, blue, green exposed skin. She swallowed down the bile forming in her throat and kneeled down next to Clarke's head.

"- _Wanheda_ has multiples on going infections. Her fever is high and from what Ryder has told me, she has been hallucinating for hours. _Ai no get klin taim em na kik raun. (I do not know if she will live.)_  
\- She will." Lexa said in a low voice. "She has survived many battles, she will survive this one."

**  
    During Wanheda's four weeks of coma, Lexa spent her every free moments with her. She ate at her side, cried at her side, read at her side. She slept there, stroked the blonde's hair while whispering in her ear that everything will be fine. That she was there. That she would now always be. She calmed the blonde when nightmares occupied her sleep, when her steady breath would turn into hyperventilization. When she kicked and screamed and rejected the medicines. Lexa changed her bandages, poured water down her throat. She cherished all these moments she spent with her, knowing damn well that reality will come back to bite her in the ass. She healed Clarke and Clarke somewhat healed Lexa. She found herself being able to look at her reflection. She ate her whole plates. Found sleep and dreamless nights when she held Clarke's hand. She was breathing again.

**

    On the second day of the fourth week, when Clarke woke up, Lexa was meditating in her room. She heard Malyia's voice whispering about killing _Wanheda_. She saw images of blood and fire before eyes. She felt sadness and pain, dread and unease, unlimited amount of power and thirst for blood. The former commander was about to address her again when her heart fluttered in her chest, when shivers ran down her spine and anxiety flooded her.

_Klark is awake._

**

    She didn't know what she expected, really. She entered the room with both haste and trepidation. Took the few seconds she had into making sure that this was real. That she was indeed awake, indeed alive. She saw never-ending pale and skinny legs. She saw arms bare from bruises and scars. Eyes full of sadness and pain. She felt the air being sucked out of her lungs, her voice suddenly gone and an immense sentiment of uselessness. She told her she had no choice but to stay in Polis, she told her Roni would take her to her assigned chambers. But she did not tell her about the tearful and worrying nights she had spent at her sides. She did not tell her how she had prayed to every damn god and goddess she knew of. How she begged for them to heal her, to give her back to this world that so desperatly needed her. To give her back to her, Lexa, who so desperatly needed her. No. Instead she was cold and acted like a heartless bitch, like a _bushhada (coward)_.  
    Lexa stroke and put her opponent's sword to the side. With a push, he lost his balance and took a few steps back, blinking. Seeing a chance, she swung her right leg into his abdomen, hard, threw herself over him, taking the both of them onto the ground. With one last fist filled with anger and self-blame, she broke his nose which splurted blood onto her face. As he lost consciousness for a split second, Lexa took out one of her knife and pushed it onto his neck.

"- You are dead, Drek.  
\- You know I cannot win when you are angry.  
\- Anger is a powerful tool your must learn how to use." 

    The both of them left the center of the arena and walked up to a bassin made of white stones. One was positionned at every four entrances of the arena which Lexa learned years ago had been inspired in the old world by the theatres of ancient Greece. It was huge, overwhelmingly huge. Built in a small and wide hill, seats made of yellow-ish concrete and stones, the place could welcome thousands of people. Lexa loved it as much as she hated it. Power entered her everytime she would enter the place, but memories of the conclave and her brothers and sisters' spilled blood would flash behind her eyes. She didn't know what to feel about it.  
    Lexa washed her hands and face while Drek stared at her.

"- Did she wake up?" She took a deep breath before answering.  
"- Sha.  
\- Do you want to talk about it ?  
\- Why would I ?"

    Drek shook his head before taking Lexa's place at the bassin and repeating her past actions. After all these years, he knew better than to confront her. Lexa was not in a sharing mood today (when was she, really), and he would respect her wishes. She knew where to find him if her matters were sowing too much trouble, and this was enough for the both of them.

**

    Lexa had changed into more comfy clothes. Her warrior gear was no longer on. Instead, she wore tight, black skinny leather boots going up her calves and a black, v, tee-shirt. Around her neck, attached to a loose string was a small emerald ending at the base of her breasts. Everything about her screamed beauty. To her figures shaped by hours of training and showed off by tight clothes, to her green eyes popping out through the lights of the many candles. She is physically as ready as she can be but her unsteady heart tells her the opposite. As Lexa was playing with the flame of a candle, the doors to the dinner room opened. Lexa abruptly stood up, shoved her hips into the table and knocked over her empty glass. When she put it back up, she cought a glimpse of silky hair and fresh skins. She saw grey eyes and rosy lips, a skinny body in grounder clothes.

"- Klark.  
\- Lexa."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SOOOOO. This chapter is almost fifteen pages long and is my favorite so far. Lexa is so complex, i just love writing in her pov. This chapter was corrected 3 times but if there is anything burning your eyes, please tell me.  
> As you read, I used Lexa's three """names""": Alexandria, Lexa and Heda/Commander. That's why (from my notes)  
> Alexandria: vulnerable part, her inner child who tries to please everyone and to be loved. The one who has Titus' teachings engraved in her.  
> Leksa: lover, friend, a mix of Heda and Alexandria.
> 
> ps: I advise you to read the first OS in Hurting, it will tell you about Clarke's first day into the wild and what she's been doing.


	3. It hurts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tw: suicide

    After her cleansing bath, she had stayed sat on the balcony until the sun hid itself behind the walls of the capital. She had bathed in the heat of the fireball, relished in its healing rays. She had glowed like the warmth she once had, had come back to watch over the citadel and herself. Her hair had become rays of sunshine on their own. For a few hours, everything came back to the way they were before: calm, bloodless, peaceful. When Clarke got out of her chamber accompanied with Rony, she had met fearful and respectful stares, but didn't give them much thoughts. Roni was probably more important than she had first thought.

  And now here she was, with one of the last person she thought she would see again. Lexa sat on the other end of the table, in front of her. Plates and drinks separated them as they ate in silence. Clarke brought her glass of water to her mouth and met the Commander's gaze. They both cleared their throat.

"- So..." Lexa blushed, and Clarke looked down to her plate.

\- Go on." Lexa said.

"- Thank you for allowing me here and taking care of me. You didn't have to.

\- Abby would have been angry if I hadn't."

     Clarke looked down with watery eyes and played with her knife.

"- I am sorry. I should not have brought that up.

\- It's okay.

\- No, Klark. I am -

\- It's okay, Lexa."

    They fell into silence again and the sky girl continued on playing with the sharp knife. Lexa had promised herself that _Heda_ was left outside the room, but she couldn't ignore this gesture and the fact the Clarke could, indeed, want to kill her. Why wouldn't she ? Lexa had been the one breaking a promising future and peace. She had been the one betraying Clarke, leaving her with no other choice than to take down the mountain on her own, and do what she does best : death. So yes, Clarke had her reasons. But still. Attempting to kill her would engage a war the Skaikru were certain to lose. But she wasn't with them, was she ? But still, there is -

"- I don't want to kill you, Lexa.

\- Excuse me ?" she said, blinking.

"- You've been staring at my knife for the past few minutes. I don't want to kill you."

    They went back to their dinner and Clarke couldn't help but wonder what being in Polis would cost her. Surely, if she was in Polis and alive, Lexa must await something from her. Maybe to put her on trial for all the wrong she's done. That's what happened on the Ark. They kept her for months and months. They isolated her, violated her rights. They starved her. They locked her up for something she was not even responsible for. They made her feel like garbage. Like she was a parasite they needed to get rid of.

    She hated this, all of this.

"-How much longer do I have to stay ?"

    Lexa frowned.

"- You are not a prisoner, Clarke.

\- That's not what you implied this morning." The blonde sat straighter.

"- I..." She sighed. "I would like you to stay in Polis to heal in the safety of these walls, not out in the wild, hurting yourself.

\- I was not...

\- You were."

    They stared at each other, not willing to let go of this argument but both knowing the truth. Clarke had been hurting herself. This was a hard statement to accept for both women, but a truth nonetheless.

"- I know you hate me, I do not blame you." stated Lexa. "But your body is still too fragile to go back into the wild. You have lost muscles and strength. You have no fat on you bones and winter is approaching. You will die." Minutes passed in silence before Clarke spoke again.

"-I do not hate you. Not anymore." Lexa blinked. "I've come to understand your choice. You chose your people over mine, like I chose my people over the Mountain. I understand now.

\- You are not angry ?"

    Clarke took a deep breath. Was she ?

"- I have forgiven you Lexa." she paused, weighing the impact of her words on Lexa's exposed vulnerability before dropping the bomb. "But I can't come to forgive myself for ever trusting you."

**

    Clarke woke up in fresh, scented sheets. Polis was cloudy this morning but rare rays of sunshine pierced through the heavy sky. She could hear the city coming back to life, its little birds chanting their morning song. She could smell the grilled meat and the burning of the many fires.

    After her meeting with Lexa, they had separated in different ways. Clarke to go back to her chambers, and Lexa to proceed what had been said. Before the betrayal, the two women had shared little times together and yet, the Sky Commander knew how the great Heda worked. She knew of her walks (or pacing, actually) after something had happened, whether it was news, a meeting gone bad or troubles occupying her mind. She understood Lexa more than she felt she understood herself. It felt bizarre, yet oddly right.

    Clarke's sleep hadn't been that good in months. It hadn't been peaceful, but she had managed to wake-up in a sweaty state twice, which, really, was a big of a deal for her. She longed in bed for a few more minutes, allowing her muscles to get some more rest before a knock was heard.

 "- Enter !"

     Roni closed the door behind her with a swing of her hips, a plate of food in her hands. She placed it on Clarke's small table before bowing.

"- _Heda_ has ordered me to serve you breakfast in your room for as long as you wish to stay in Polis. I am to please your needs when you will be needing me.

\- _Mochof_ , Roni. But you don't have to do that. I can feed my own needs.

\- It is a pleasure to serve you, Wanheda."

     Clarke flinched. This was the second time Roni had used this "title", and her knowings in trigedasleng was too little to allow her to understand it fully.

 "- What does ' _Wanheda_ ' mean ?"

    The Grounder's eyes grew big and with hesitation, she proceeded to answer.

"- I do not think I am fitted to answer this question.

\- Who should I ask to ?

\- _Heda_."

     _Of course_. Clarke abstained herself from rolling her eyes and nodded, disposing the Grounder. She did not want Lexa's company today. After three months of complete solitude, she found it hard to hold a conversation and be with someone else's presence without feeling a rush of anxiety and unease. She had never been a social kid. In the Ark, she would always eat with Wells in a corner of the lunch room. She would look down when a representative of authority passed by even though she had nothing to be guilty for. But all of this had changed when she'd stepped foot on the ground. She had toughened up. Put her worries and fear aside and had watched over the hundred delinquents she felt responsible for. She became confident, stopped fearing to voice her thoughts out loud. But staying on her own for three months had altered this new Clarke Griffin. She stopped caring what people would think, stopped taking other people's feelings in the equation. She forgot what living in community was like. What it was like to encounter people and how they worked. Clarke was not sure she was willing to let them in again. So after yesterday, talking to people was the last thing she wanted to do.

But of course, things rarely go as planned.

 **

     Clarke consumed her breakfast sat crossed-legs on the balcony. Enveloped in the furs of the bed, she ate in silence, watching the city rise up. The air was chilly and cold. Her nose was a slight red, like her cheeks, and Clarke tightened the pelt. She watched Grounders go on about their day and she wondered what they were made of. Lexa had never really talked about Polis and its citizens... She now wished she knew more.

    As the hours went by, Clarke started thinking of Arkadia. Standing above all this peaceful life, she begged for them not to screw this up. Polis was a place of joy, there was no space for hate and bloodshed. _Kane. He's the only one who can calm them down._

     But who, who can maintain her ?

 **

     Hours later and she was still sat on the balcony. She'd had the time to think of what she would do now. Whether she'd go back into the wilderness or stay between those walls. She had decided to leave tomorrow morning, when Polis and the whole tower was still asleep. This was the best for everyone. Death couldn't reach Polis, it just couldn't. So Clarke would leave for the city to go on untouched.

    Roni came in and prepared a bath for her. She put burning rocks under the porcelain bathtub and turned on the faucet for the tepid water to fill the bath. Clarke wanted to ask how the pipes could still work, a hundred of years later but didn't. One word and the anxiety attack she had tried to calm down would submerge her. The brown-haired grounder place clean towels on the counter, took the dirty ones from yesterday and left the chambers.

     The hot water instantly calmed her down. Her muscles loosened up and a sigh escaped her parted lips. She'd missed that. Hot water was not a thing on the ground, and icy cold water was the only thing she had in prison. She only had memories of her life before it went all down. The lukewarm water running down her back as her father washed her when she was little. Her giggles when he would pour it over her head and her father fake scowl when she would splash the liquid all over him. She shut her eyes. Not today. Not now. She quickly got out after rinsing her hair and dried herself up. She got out of the bathroom, towels around her shape when someone knocked outside her door. She took a deep, shaky breath before answering.

 "- Wait a minute ! "

     She knew today was not a good day for her when she had no idea how to put the garments Roni had prepared for her, on. She put on a tight, black boxer and the same sort of "bra" she wore last night, did the same for her pants but things then, got complicated. Many pieces laid unknown on her bed, except for a large white tank tops. She hurriedly put it on when a second knock was heard.

 "- Hm, you can come in ! I guess" She added to herself.

      Clarke stared at the thick, leather materials on the bed while the visitor came in. _What the fuck are those ?_ She lifted a large straps doubled with fur, leather lace attached to one of its extremities swung in the air.

 "- It goes on your waist."

    Clarke jumped and turned around to see Lexa, her Commander's mask on.

 "- I... Ho- how do you put this on ?" She asked, staring at it again.

"- Hand it to me."

    She did so and the Commander approached. Both extremities of the fabric in each of her hands, she stood in front of Clarke and instructed her to lift her hands. She mimicked her gesture, the fabric still in her hands, she passed it in Clarke's back and locked eyes. They swallowed. She placed it on her waist and crouched down. Of the sixteen laces, she put eight of them into the eight holes and, with the remaining laces, tightly tied knots until the fabric no longer was loose. She released a bit of fabric from Clarke's tank top to allow her to move more freely. She then continued on attaching the four other pieces onto Clarke's bare arms until there was no skin to be seen.

    The air between the two women had never been that thick since their kiss in the war tent. Clarke's heart was beating so hard she swore Lexa could hear it.

 "- Mochof."

     Lexa nodded and they stared at each other for a few more seconds, before she conceded and walked away. Clarke frowned, but her unasked question was answered when she walked up to her once again, hands holding books she didn't know she had brought. She tilted her head.

 "- When I ascended, I had a tough time coming to terms with what I had to do, and what I already had done." She swallowed. "These books have helped me ever since I have found them, many years ago."

     Was Lexa blushing ? Clarke opened her mouth to speak but no words came out. Books were a window to a soul. It was... personal. Lexa had never put herself in such a vulnerable place in front of Clarke. By looking into her eyes, the skai Prisa understood how much it meant to her. How much she was putting at risk for her. One wrong word and Clarke would shatter Lexa all over again.

 "- Thank you... I will take great care of them.

\- You do not have to read them if you do not wish to.

\- Don't be a fool, of course I want to read them."

     Lexa nodded with a puzzled looks.

 "- Do you," Clarke swallowed. "do you want to sit on the balcony with me ?"

    Lexa once again nodded and the blonde followed her, jaw tight. This was not what she had planned. It had been, however, simple. Do not surround yourself with people because they end up dying. They deserved better.

    Both women sat on the concrete and watched the city in silence. It was mid-afternoon and the sky had still not cleared. Shivers ran down their spine as the cold wind hit them and Clarke enveloped herself in the fur laying underneath her. Even under this grey sky, Polis was more alive than she had ever been. She watched the muddy streets never clearing from its thousands of people. She listened to the shouts, the brouhaha of people's talks. She stared at the never-ending firmament, wondered if her father's body and soul had found a peaceful way to settle between the many stars. She wondered if he had encountered the many people she had killed, the souls she had ripped off of the innocents. She thought of how disappointed he would be, if he was still here. How disgusted of her he would be, if he was still here.

    As a first tear escaped her eyes, the sky started crying its own tears too. They ended their fall on her nose and hair. They soaked the city whole. The ground went slippery, her heart skipped beats. As to hide her sobs, the rain grew louder. It entwined itself with the crushing wind, made leaves and paper twirl in the air. The thunders broke her all over again and Clarke was soon a soppy mess. Too washed-out to sense it, she was bride-like carried away from the balcony and delicately laid onto the bed. Covers enveloped her to her chins and she felt more alone than she ever had.

 "- Please, don't leave."

     She didn't know to who that was for the most. To her father, maybe, whom she should have been floated with to prevent all the killings she would, later, do. To Wells, whom she had blamed for her father's death to such extant he had felt unworthy of any love. To Lexa, to whom she had killed many of her people.

 "- Please, don't leave me." she sobbed and begged more to herself than anything.

     She felt the mattress sink under Lexa's weight and another layer of fur added onto both of them. She turned around as strong arms shielded her from the world and wept into the brunette's neck. She held onto Lexa like she was the only thing preventing her from drowning. Like she was the anchor she so desperately needed.

 "- I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." She cried out loud as the arms around her back and waist tightened.

"- Shhh."

    They stayed like this for minutes, which turned to hours. Clarke quietened, bits by bits, but Lexa's hand running down her spine never stopped assuaging her. Her embrace never faltered. It stayed tight when Clarke was crying, when she threw fits on Lexa's chest. It stayed tight when Clarke's breath got back to a steady rhythm, when she dozed off and fell asleep. It stayed tight when Lexa, she too, drifted off.

**

    Clarke woke up to a kiss on her forehead, and watched Lexa putting back up the covers on her body. But drained from all her strength, she fell back asleep without hearing Lexa's quiet supplication.

"- Please, don't leave me."

**

    The stars still occupied the sky when Clarke woke up again. There had been no nightmares. No screams, no cries, no sweats. She turned around, willing to see Lexa's sleepy face but was met with emptiness. The place where she had laid was now cold, and when Clarke touched it, she remembered and felt Lexa's kiss on her temple. She sighed and rolled herself into a ball. Now that she was alone again, her ache hit her like a two-headed deer. The pain was so real she could feel her heart twisting. She needed air, she needed air, she needed air. She raced to the balcony, opened its doors and ran to its cold, metal rail on which she firmly put her hands to ground her. How long ? How long will it take her before she will no longer be able to hold on ? It had been over three months since Mount Weather massacre and Clarke still had not healed. She was tired, _so_ tired. She opened her eyes and looked down. She would never come out off this fall alive.

     And maybe this, was the solution. Not only to her pain, but to the thousands of people she was putting at risk. She had been thinking about it for a while already, not willing to voice it out loud but knowing deep down that death, her death, could solve it all. Mesmerized by her pain, she climbed over the rail, her feet on the last piece of concrete separating her from life and death. Just one step, one step -

"- Klark, don't do this."

    The blonde tightened her grip on the metal bars.

"- It's just so hard..." She sobbed.

\- I know, Kl-

\- No, you don't. You don't understand what it's like to sow death wherever you go." she added with a shaky voice. "You don't understand what it's like to have the innocents soul and burned body haunting your every nights.

\- I do, Klark. I promise you, I do.

\- I'... I'm a monster." She whispered, not hearing a word Lexa had said.

    She saw it before it even happened. Lexa put her arms under Clarke's and yanked her towards her before she could jump. They both fell onto the concrete, Clarke's back over the brunette as she started sobbing uncontrollably. Lexa straightened herself and hold Clarke like she would jump at any moment. She held her tight, like she could lose her again. Her tears fell into the blonde's hair. Their ache waltzed together until it became one. It broke and mended their soul like they shared one, unique soul.

    And in this moment, she knew. She was weak for Clarke and there was nothing she could and wanted to do to cease the warmth from settling in her chest. She was weak for Clarke, and Lexa was fine with that.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really don't like this chapter. I don't what's wrong with it, I just don't like it. Really sorry about the tone it went for, I was really sad when writing this chapter and I guess you can kind of see it. 
> 
> Please, keep your middle finger up and see you in two weeks !
> 
> ps: do you guys know how to prevent the useless, large spaces between paragraphs/lines ?


	4. Wanheda

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tw: abuse

    After Clarke's mental breakdown, Lexa had been spending all her free time with her, not really talking but purely making sure that she was alive, and would stay on being alive. And so for the past two days, Heda slept by her side, arms tight around her weakness. She ordered Roni to come in Clarke's chambers every hour to make sure she was fine. She made Nyko go to Clarke's to check on her body instead of the other way around. She worked harder and harder to be more productive and fast so she could have more spare time to watch over her. Clarke's attempt to kill herself had Lexa shook to her core and she promised herself that it would never ever happen again.  
    Clarke stood, yet again, on the balcony. Surrounded by the cold, morning fog, she looked like a phantom. Air was coming out of her mouth like smoke, shape almost blurred. Her hands were tight on the rail and her face turned to the sky, bathing into the warm rays of sunshine. She had pushed away the idea of leaving Polis for now, did not acknowledge the many reasons preventing her from running away. Did not want to. She took a deep breath and held it in her lungs for a few seconds. The memories were still fresh in her minds. When she would go stand on the balcony like she was now, hands gripping the metal bars and eyes closed, she could feel herself and her surroundings reel. She could here Lexa's supplication again. Could remember the tightness in her chest, the voices telling her to jump. Here. Now. She shot her eyes open and exhaled. The citadel was as calm as it had been since that night. Nothing had changed. Grounders were still trading. Kids were still learning how to fight. Lexa was still here.  
    They did not speak about the events. They barely spoke. She would come back when night was falling or for a few minutes. They would sit on the balcony or lay in bed, space separating them before waking up and finding themselves in a tight embrace. The frown that would disappear when Clarke would sleep next to her, would come back the second Lexa would step foot out of the mattress. Slowly, without realizing it, they developed some kind of a routine.  
    Clarke sat down and put her head on the rail. She missed the heavy scent of the trees. She wished nothing more than to get out of this tower to have a walk and discover this city she longed to know. But this was not happening. She was a danger. A death sentence to everyone her gaze fell onto. She would stay here, hidden behind the safety of these walls until she was strong enough to go back into the wild, where the only thing she'd hurt would be rabbits. A knock put an end to her thoughts and Clarke voiced for the individual to enter.

"- _Wanheda_."

    The so called _Wanheda_ nodded and kept her back to the woman. She let her do her duties without interfering to help her. Lexa had told her that Grounders took pride in fulfilling their obligations and that preventing them to do so or proposing your help was a proof of mistrust and doubt in their abilities. So Clarke let Roni do as she was instructed and stayed on the balcony. A fur fell on her shoulders and Clarke looked up.

"- It is getting cold. You need to stay warm.  
\- _Mochof_ , she answered."

    She heard the entry door close and Clarke was left alone anew. She ate the berries that were now placed next to her in silence, lost herself in sadness and desperation.

**

"- No.  
\- Clarke, you cannot spend your life hidden behind walls and trees. You need to get out.  
\- No, I don't actually. I'm fine just where I am.  
\- Clar-  
\- I said, I am fine", she spat.

Lexa gave her one more look and tightened her jaw. She inhaled and spoke with a low voice.

"- Someone once told me that life should be about more than just surviving."

**

    She couldn't believe an ounce of the fuck she was doing. It was pretty simple, however. She was outside, in broad day light. Lexa's words had resonated to such extant she had felt her resolve falter. Her father had always taught her to live by her words and it was a lesson now impregnated in her very deep soul. If Clarke had violated every lessons he had ever taught her, she could at least honor this one. They left the tower through one of the back entrances. They encountered no one. They walked in silence through grass and rocks, twists and turns. Clarke's hands were fists, palms red as her nails tried to pierce her skin. Her jaw was tight and her breathing was shaky. Lexa walked head high, her commander's mask on. Nothing would go wrong today.  
    They arrived to the arena and the blonde's mouth fell open. Her gaze traveled on each walls, each range of seats. She had never seen something so big.

"- When is it from ? she asked, her eyes still wandering around her.  
\- The old world."

    She looked at Lexa in awe and they started walking towards its center, stopping when they reached their destination.

"- Punch me.  
\- What ?  
\- I said, punch me.  
\- I will not do that !"

    The Commander's right leg flew underneath Clarke's and she soon laid on her back, a look of complete incomprehension on her face.

"-What the fuck, Lexa ? she took her offered hand and stood back up, a hand drawing small circles on her bum to ease the pain. What was that for ?  
\- Fighting is a great tool to ease your internal struggles, Clarke. Punch me.  
\- I don't want to hurt you, she frowned, Heda snorted.  
\- We both know you couldn't."

    Clarke's face lit up and a small smile soon found its way onto her face. Lexa faltered for a second, swallowed the butterfly building in her stomach and, as to wake herself up, knocked the air out of her lungs by pushing her foot onto her stomach, and swept her right leg under Clarke's for a second time. She fell. Hard. A plaint escaped her parted lips as her arms encircled her tummy. She rolled to the side, ignoring Lexa's outstretched hand.

"- Get up."

    Clarke got on her hands and knees, but it was not fast enough for Heda and she pushed her feet onto her bottom, making her fall back head first into the dirt. She groaned again.

"- You know what ? Fuck you."

    She swiftly got up and faced Lexa who avoided every single one of her weak punches. She moved to the sides, got down. She stopped Clarke's angry and desperate kicks with her forearms. Together, they commenced a waltz which was given rhythm to by choler and self-blame. They turned and turned. Clarke's grey eyes filled with unshed tears but Clarke would not back down. Her bangs came faster, stronger, but Lexa never failed to stop them. They continued for a few minutes before the blonde's sobs became uncontrollable.

"- It's okay, Klark, let it all out."

**  
    Lexa did not sleep with Clarke that night. The blonde was angry, but she was also and mostly drained. Lexa had inflicted on her a great exercise which could break down any child. As much as the Commander liked the sensitivity she saw as a quality in Clarke, she couldn't erase the fact that sensitivity could be a burden. Clarke was suffering because of that and she was not willing to see her on the balcony again, on the verge of losing her to the demons Lexa had desperately tried for years to chase away. Lexa did not sleep with Clarke that night, but she came into her room in the middle of the night when Clarke's screams echoed through the walls of the tower. She held onto her hand and Clarke held back, clinging to the warm and strong hands like it would somewhat bring her strength to fend the ghosts off. When the room quietened, Lexa still did not leave. She did not rest either, her gazed remained transfixed on Clarke's features like they had on Clarke's suicide attempt night. And the night after that.  
    When the birds began singing their morning song, Lexa left.  
**

    She woke up to the feeling of being watched. Her breathing remained low and steady as she sensed her surroundings, clearly aware of the moving around her. She kept her eyes shut and her position still. She tried to sharpen her hearing and focus solely on her vicinity without a complete change of attitude. And then she heard it. The slow respiration and the soft steps. The small cracks of a drawer being pulled and searched. She stiffened again when the phantom approached her with the agility of a panther. She waited again. Just a little bit closer... And as she sensed the warmth of the being over her body, she launched herself onto them with a war cry. She pinned them onto the wall, hard. One of her knees between the other's legs, her pelvis pressed down onto their hip and her forearm pressuring the intruder's throat. It all happened so fast she didn't even see their features.

"- Clarke, it's me. Roni."

    Clarke blinked a first time. And a second time. And it's like the world had stopped spinning. Clarke's breath halted and her brows furrowed with such slowness it looked as if she was struck in time. She searched in the strangers eyes for signs of lies but was met with genuine concern and care. Blood rushed back to her and she pulled herself off of the Grounder with a yelp.

"- I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, Clarke said between rapid breaths. I just... I thought... And then you...  
\- You have nothing to be forgiven for. If anything, I am glad you acted this way.  
\- What ? I didn't even recognize you !  
\- Would you have acted as such when you woke up a few days ago ?'

    Clarke frowned, not getting her point.

"- Would you have ?" In front of her clueless face, she pressed. " _Fig raun._ Think."

    It took minutes for Clarke to fully understand the meaning behind Roni's statement. Would she have acted, face to a possible threat ? Wouldn't she have stayed laying on the ground like she did in the forest, begging for this threat to be real ? _No, I wouldn't have._ She looked down.

"- Exactly, she put her hand on Clarke's shoulder. You are healing, _Klark kom Skaikru_. That is a good thing."

    Clarke was still shaken to her core when they sat at the table close to the balcony. The trail on which laid meat, bread and a vegetables soup was positioned onto the wooden table and Clarke forced herself to eat some (well, Roni's stare was forcing her to). The Grounder allowed Clarke some quiet time as she did the bed and lit up some candles. She sat back down onto a chair when Clarke finished her breakfast.

"- _Heda_ has told me to check over the bruises you got yesterday."

    Clarke nodded and took out her tee-shirt before taking off her binder. She felt cold hands onto her spine and waited for a gasp. She stopped breathing, felt the Grounder trace her brands with her eyes, but the blonde's jaw remained tight and her eyes hard. But Roni said nothing. She began to work on every cuts, every bruises and the brands on the sky girl's shoulder until she was covered with pomade. Clarke felt each touch on her skin, always hurting but always gentle.

"- You have a lot of bruises that need to be taken care of. I am going to apply a salve on each of them, the sky girl nodded and relaxed when the coldness of the balm touched her injured epiderm.  
\- She kicked my ass, didn't she ?"

    Roni laughed at her teasing tone and answered positively. Lexa did kick Clarke's ass yesterday, but the resentment she felt for her back in the arena and after was now long gone, and she understood what Lexa had meant. She felt lighter today, stronger. As if the weight of the deads was now more bearable. She discovered a pleasure in her sore muscles she had never known could exist.  
    Clarke put her shirt back on and took off her thin short for Roni to examine her butt cheeks.

"- Do you think you could teach me trigedasleng ?  
\- _Sha, Wanheda_."

    Clarke didn't answer back and her thoughts remained on the title. She still didn't have the knowledge of its meaning but maybe this was for the best. Clarke was no fool. This name did not follow her before Mount Weather. Grounders wouldn't bow their head at her sight or give her a wide berth. They wouldn't even call her by her name and now they almost seemed to fear it. Maybe it could give Arkadia the safety of a protection not entirely deserved, but dearly welcomed.  
    Even from far away, months after she abandoned them in their weakest state, Clarke still thought like the leader they had forced her to be. She couldn't help but wonder if they had found a way to bring back electricity after the generator had shut down, if vegetables were now growing as they should be. She thought about Raven and her aching leg, about her desire to prove herself worthy and capable. She thought about Octavia, whose stubbornness and strength were qualities the blonde longed to have ; about her fury and her last words towards Clarke, which she would forever carry as a reminder: " _It's not good enough._ " She thought about Abby and the look of disgust and distrust after the missile hit TonDC. She heard her screams, saw her on the medical table of Mount Weather, her bone narrow being pulled out. She is always too late. She hesitates too long, confound herself between her heart and her mind. Octavia was right.  
    She tried to convince herself that leaving was the best choice she had. That it was the best she could offer to the people she had grown to love, but was it ? No matter how scared and wary of her they were, Clarke kept them alive for months. She fed them, built them. She made sure every single delinquents had a place. She failed in the first days and weeks, but learned from her failures and attempted to do better. To be better. She took it as her duty to keep their heart beating and lungs breathing. She fought for them when no one was willing to, reminded the adults of their position when they entered the camp and acted like they owned the place. So was it really for the best to leave the careless delinquents in the hands of people who, for years, abused them and treated them like worthless kids ? She was not so sure now, but she did leave. Nothing could erase that but when she will go back to Arkadia (because she will), she'll be stronger, ready to face the troubles sky crew have created.  
    Clarke went to the balcony and placed her hands wide apart on the metal rail. _They would love Polis_. It's full of life and possibilities. It's yellings and chants, knives and laughs. Food is abundant and the warmth she could feel, from up above, coming from all this people were so soothing she felt the Delinquents could find what they were looking for : hope, understanding and love. Things they didn't get to experience fully on the Ark. There was no hope on the Ark because there was nothing to look forward to. Boundaries were set, crimes screamed loud and clear, their aftermaths brutally showed and inflicted. Understanding was not even a word used on the metal ship. If you stole money to feed yourself and your youngs, you were executed. If you took more medicines than necessary because your loved-ones kept getting sicker and sicker, you were executed. If you had the misfortune of loving too much, you and your superfluous kid were executed.  
    The ground brought them the ability to love and to be. There was no detention until eighteen, no floating. You could eat and drink and scream and be loud. The Delinquents fell onto a what could have been a haven but abused people reproduce abuse behavior. And when you were once taken your rights and life away, you choose to mercilessly kill and murder to ensure you safety and your place. This is a common response to what you have known your entire life, it is understandable. But though mental health may justify your actions, they do not excuse them. No matter your level of distraught, you still killed innocent people. No matter how confined and treated you used to be, you still hit and humiliated and denigrated someone to the point they no longer saw worth in themselves. People do not have to put up with your shit, yet they do. Yet Clarke did. _Maybe one day they'll be stable enough to come and discover Polis. They deserve at least this._

**

    Clarke was reading one of Lexa's landed books laying, once again, one the balcony of her chamber. She bathed in the warmth of the sun, ached under its rays. She broke and found and mended pieces of her soul she thought she would forever carry damaged. The cover of the book she chose had intrigued her. Pitch black, white letters bearing the title : "Milk and Honey". The author's name was too ramshackle to be read, but she felt this was what she needed. A poem collection who's writer was invisible, but who's words were so real and raw she could not prevent her tears from shedding. And neither did Lexa. On each page, Clarke encountered pieces of the Commander's soul breaking and healing. Old traces of water could be visible on the yellow paper and she could not believe she was holding something so connected and beautiful and endearing of Lexa. This was more than a kiss, more than their shared embraces and more than Lexa's silent stares and words. Clarke turned a page and arrived on a poem she will forever carry on her heart and think about when face with the adversity of death. A drawing of the Earth laid above it. It said:

 " I am sorry this world  
could not keep you safe  
may your journey home  
be a soft and peaceful one"

**

    She had waited for the night to fall and for the stars to shine bright. She ate her dinner like time was chasing her under Roni's laugh and playful stares and went to the bathroom to chew on some mint leaves.

"- _Chit ste hos raun ?_ she teased, leaning against the door frame of the bathroom as the blonde looked up.  
\- What is... What is...  
\- What is the hurry, Roni translated.  
\- Oh ! I need to see L- The Commander, she blushed and the Grounder smiled. _Du yu,_ Clarke paused as she tried to remember Roni's teaching, _get, get in taim Heda na komba laun ? ( Do you know when Heda will return ?)_  
\- _Komba raun, not komba laun. Sha, Wanheda._ I believe she is already in her quarters.

    Clarke nodded and spit the leaves into a trash pot. She went back to the main room with Roni by her sides and took "Milk and honey" in her hands.

"- I need to put salve on your bruises.  
\- Haven't you already done that this morning ?  
\- _Sha_ , but you will heal faster if I apply a pomade two times a day."

    Clarke approved with a movement of the head and stripped down only to be left in her underwear. Roni repeated the same motions and process she did in the morning, taking her time on each bruises which only made the blonde grow impatient. Her gaze fell onto her bed on which laid new garments. She waited for Roni to finish and then took the clothes in her hands. _This is so delicate..._ The piece she had in her grasp unfolded to reveal black, thin, comfy pants made of silk. On its outer sides were a strip of black lace which allowed her skin to be shown. She slowly put it on, almost afraid to rip it apart. The top was made of the same fabric, lace on its cleavage in a long triangle. It held with thin straps on her shoulders. Clarke turned around to Roni who gave her a nod of approval and gestured for the both of them to leave.

"- _Heda's_ chambers is the first door on your right."

    And with that, Clarke was left on her own in the hallway, Roni leaving to her left. She turned her head to where the Grounder had indicated her and saw two armed women guarding Lexa's quarters. She stood in front of them and announced herself.

"- _Ai laik Klark kom Skaikru,_ I need to see _Heda_."

    She tightened her grip on the book as they lowered their head in a sign of respect, their eyes slightly growing bigger. They knocked on the door to announce her presence.

"- _Min op !" (enter)_

    The two warrior allowed her entrance after their Commander's words and she stepped into the doorway. The glows of the candles allowed light to illuminate the room and Clarke stood there for a few seconds, anxiety building up in her guts. She had never stepped foot in Lexa's private room and felt like she was intruding. Like she was inviting herself into someplace that did not belong to her. But it was too late to back down now, so Clarke walked until the small corridor ended to reveal a bedroom two times larger than hers. Lexa's four-poster bed stood on her right, thick red curtains encircling it. In front of her was the access to no doubt another balcony. A war table was on its far left on which laid maps, Lexa looking above them.  
    And then Lexa turned around, face bare from any warpaint and any title.  
    Clarke's breath itched. Their eyes locked.  
    And once again, it was like time had stopped. Like they were stepping into a bubble which allowed no one apart from themselves to enter. Clarke's gaze traveled on the Commander's body which was covered in a black silky dress. Her breast perking under this garment made the blonde's heart stutter but the leg coming out of the side split signed the end of Clarke's sanity. She blushed like a teenager seeing skin for the first time. _Get a hold of yourself._ Her eyes traveled back up Lexa's figure and their eyes met again. They swallowed.

'"- I, um, Clarke cleared her throat, brought you this ?"

    Lexa came to her, eyes never unlocking, stare never fading before she looked down to Clarke's outstretched hand. Her eyes grew big for a split second before taking the book and stared, once again, in Clarke, waiting for her to speak.

"- Thank you, for allowing me to read it. You didn't have to.  
\- I know. I wanted to."

    Clarke nodded and her eyes fell on Lexa's lips. And it was like she was transported months ago in this war tent filled with unspoken words and hidden feelings. Things were different, back then. Clarke was respected and looked up to by her people, but the Grounders could not stand her. She found joy in hearing her people laughing and slept with just a few nightmares. What Roni had told her was four months ago now since Mount Weather, had changed Clarke. They came back from the damned land giving their leader dreadful but admiring stares. Clarke bore a title and had received a respectful nod from every Grounder she ever encountered. People's laugh made her ache and sleep was something she now feared. She looked up and frowned.

"- What does " _Wanheda_ " mean ?"

    She saw hesitation in Lexa's eyes but Clarke did not falter. It was time to know the truth, to understand what brought her respect amongst this population which for so long despised her.

"- _Heda kom Wamplei..._ Commander of Death.  
\- ... They, she frowned, tears welling up in her eyes. They think I control death. They think I am death... They see me as a monster !  
\- No, Klark. They don't see you as a monster... They see you as a goddess."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi ! So sorry for the long wait. Life got out of hand.  
> Mild and Honey is on my reading list but here's one of its poem. The author is called Rupi Kaur.  
> I hope you enjoyed this chapter and the following ones and, of course, huge middle finger up to Jason Rothenberg who does nothing but humiliate and use us.
> 
> PS:The brands Clarke has on her shoulderbalde won't be discussed now, but is explained in the second OS in Hurting.


	5. Red

_Frag em op !_

    She jerked awake, sweat drippling down her forehead as she processed to calm herself down. She tried to breath, tried to ease the anguish that had settled in her chest. She gripped the furs of the bed and closed her eyes, allowing images of blood and red pure hatred to flash behind her pupils. Maliya's voice ringed in her head. It echoed and screamed and begged and destroyed every ounce of Lexa's sanity. She shot her eyes open and exhaled. Maliya's voice was only just a voice. Lexa did not listen to it when it screamed at her to have Nia's head as a retribution of Costia's, did not listen to it after Clarke put the blade deep into the _ripa's (murderer)_ stomach. She will not listen to her now. Not now that Clarke held Lexa's hope and heart. Not now that the blonde allowed her to see beyond wars and conflicts. She would protect her with her life and she hoped, deep down, that Clarke would eventually feel the same way. Plus, if their relation does get better, having Wanheda publicly support her was more than Lexa absorbing her power. Politics were a strange thing.  
     She went to the bathroom and splashed cold water onto her face before proceeding to wash herself over the small basin. The glove traced down her curves, followed the lines of her muscles, sketched her tattoos again. It wandered in places Lexa hoped Clarke's hands would lose themselves in. She shook her head, dressed herself up and, as she left the bathroom, passed by Milk and Honey laying on the dresser. This poetry collection had helped her cope with her conclave, it helped her grieve Costia, brought back some willing to live to her tired spirit. And she knew for a fact that it had helped Clarke too. She thought about her favorite poem. How it had provoked freeing and burning tears the first time her eyes fell on it. How it cleansed her of her blinding hatred and consuming vindictiveness for this world she, for a long time, did not want to live in anymore. How she felt it was written for everyone she knew about, and for her. The poem stuck in her mind as she exited her quarters, full gear on.

"i'm sorry this world  
could not keep you safe  
may your journey home  
be a soft and peaceful one"

**

"- How are the houses going ? she asked, her fingers pressed on the button.  
\- They are building fast, Heda. Grounders and Sky people align their knowledge and Indra and I send them on hunting trips to tighten their bond. It's going well.  
\- What about the others ?"

There was a pause before Kane spoke again.

"- They isolated themselves at the back of the Ark.  
\- Keep an eye on them. Update me if they move.  
\- _Sha, Heda._ "

    Lexa put her finger off of the button and laid what _Skaikru_ called a "radio", on the war table. It had been Raven's idea, approved by Bellamy and Kane, and Lexa couldn't ignore the fact that it was indeed easier and faster to communicate. The engineer was building some more to Heda's request, eager to share them amongst the Clans. If they could see for themselves that Skaikru could indeed benefit the _Kongeda (coalition)_ , they would be more incline to let them in. Her thoughts wandered off to Clarke and she asked herself how she would feel about that. She hadn't talk about her people yet, but she knew she was getting there. For the past few weeks, Lexa watched Clarke slowly change. She started to walk straighter, head higher and shoulders drawn backward. They went to train to the Arena and Clarke never once faltered under Lexa's fists and kicks. She fought back, corrected her stance under the Commander's hard teaching. She groaned and roared and glowed. It was like a part of Clarke had unlocked itself. Like it finally got the chance to express itself and just, let it go. Her movements appeared better, stronger, swifter every day. She memorized the brunette's lessons and applied them like they had been engraved in her very deep soul for decades. People were coming to the pit to watch them fight and rumors spread amidst Polis that Wanheda was between the citadel's walls.  
     It's Clarke's hair that gave her out. So blonde it gave the impression the Sun had poured itself into creating it. Like it had left a fragment of rays and fire combined to forever remind her and the people surrounding her that she is more than just Clarke. More than just a Sky girl. More than just a _Prisa (princesse)_. There is something about her Lexa cannot quite put her finger on. It's about the way she moves, the way she thinks. It's about the flames in her eyes and the warmth in her heart. But it's also oddly entwined with Death, with the amount of people she's killed with almost no effort, with the amount of people she's saved, with her being alive after every single battle and death threats. She is Wanheda, there is no doubt. But she's something more.  
     Lexa left the war room and greeted some warriors along the corridors. She paused in front of a door guarded by a Grounder who immediately bowed, and Lexa acknoweldged him with a nod.

"- _Shopta, Haygon ? (how are you)_  
_\- Ai laik os, Heda, mochof. (i am great, Commander, thank you)_  
_\- Hashta Morine en oyo youngon ? (what about morine and your children)_  
_\- Os, hashta yu. Nou Laoura ste haken noumou. (great, thanks to you. Laoura is no longer sick)_  
_\- Ai ste hapo ai don bilaik sis yo os. (I am happy I could help you)_

    Lexa left Haygon at his post with a smile on her lips and went for the two, large frontdoors. She stood there as it opened, as the buzzing of the city reached her ears. She looked around, taking in the muddy ground and the different shouts of the thousand Grounders. There was no capital before she ascended. There was no place to talk, no place to be safe. Back then, there was no unity, no peace, no love. But she had changed that. She had made it happen through war councils and bloodshed, projections and facts. And now, years later and the ground was a much better place to be. People of the twelve clans cohabited. They exchanged food and goods on the market. They bonded over cups of alcohol and loved each other through cultures and interests. And this was what Lexa was the most proud of. But there were still so many things to change and take care of: Nia's constant threats, _Skaikru_ , children's education and life. As of today, only warriors and traders spoke fluent English and each individual child had to get warrior teaching. She wished school like the old world could exist again, wished to find a compromise between their culture and lifestyle, and her desire for them to have a better and more steady life. But this could be pushed back to later, and Lexa had needs to take care of.  
     She pushed her way into the streets, low bows and chants followed her steps but she didn't stop. She smiled to most and went for her first desired location. She stopped in front of an art stand and the woman in front of her widen her eyes before bowing her head, low.

"- _Heda. Ha na sis yu au ? (How can I help you)_  
\- I would like a set of your finest brushes, paint and canvas in different sizes in exchange for one of my knives. " She took it out of her boots and laid it on the counter.  
"- I can not accept such a trade, Heda. You have kept my family safe within Polis for years, I must repay you."

Lexa nodded with a small smile and spoke again.

"- _Sen emo op gon ai wongeda. (Send them to my chamber)_

    She left the woman and went for the Arena, her two guards behind her, where Drek was waiting for her. She quickened her pace but stopped at its entrance, eyes big and mouth open. In its center could be seen flashes of blond hair, white skin waltzing with tanned one, melange of fists and toned legs. Clarke rolled onto the floor, took out a stick from her right ankle and threw it toward Drek's leg but she was not quick enough and the Grounder was soon standing over her. She rolled again, knelt behind Drek with such agility and celerity the four Grounders had to blink to comprehend what had happened. She punched the back of his left knee and the man fell onto the floor, a pop being heard as his knees touched the dirt. She stood up, an arm around his neck and rasped with a voice she did not recognize as her own.

"- _Yu stedaun." (You are dead)_

Lexa gasped and stood in awe. _How ?_ No one had ever learned to take down a skillful warrior with only a two weeks a half of training. It was just impossible. But Klark did it.

"- I am so sorry, I... I don't know what happened. It's like I wasn't aware of what I was doing and I..." She helped him get back. "Oh my God, I dislocated your knee !

She laid him flat on the ground and placed her hands on his leg.

"- I'm sorry, this is gonna hurt."

But as she straightened his leg and pushed the knee back in its place, Drek did not falter. He kept his eyes on her face, scrutinizing her.

"- I am so...  
\- There is no need to apologize. You are a skilled warrior, and you proved yourself worthy of your title."

She looked down, flashes of blood and burnt bodies replaced her clear vision and she started shaking. A gentle hand laid on her shoulder and she looked back up.

"- Lexa.  
-You have improved.  
\- Thanks to you for beating up my ass every day."

    The three of them snorted. They left the arena and remained silent. Lexa still couldn't believe what she just saw and heard. The voice coming out of Clarke's throat had been raspier that it usually is. It was laced with something Lexa knew and understood too well : _thost. (hunger)_  
     When it first happened, Lexa was standing above two of her nightbloods' siblings. Their corpses laid on the ground, black blood seeping from all the wounds Alexandria had inflicted them. She had looked down over the two girls she had grown to consider family and it happened. She saw red, everywhere. Shy and vulnerable Alexandria was no more as wrath consumed her until she had been the last standing _natblida_. And still, as the Conclave ended she was left thirsty. The second time it happened, _Trikru_ was at war against _Yujleda (Broadleaf)_. Hundred of their warriors were plastered on the ground, killed by Lexa's swift and deadly blade, when she felt it. The demon was unleashed and she had not been able to stop it. She needed more. More blood, more death. She was seeing red, running on hatred and power alone. And after an hour of bloodshed, when many _Trikru_ warriors were still on their feet and the last Yujleda warrior was kneeling in front of Lexa, she sliced her throat and with a voice she did not recognize as her own, said: _"Yu gonplei ste odon."_ She decapitated her, forced her soul to remain lost forever, with no possibility of another life.  
     Anya reassured her fears and Alexandria did not sleep with Costia for nights, dreading losing control again and unleashing the beast. Years later and the beast was still here. Lexa learned how to control it and use it. It protected her from hurt and ache. And for numerous times, Lexa was glad it existed.  
     She watched Clarke from the corner of her eyes and knew she had to reassure her ; she was no monster and never will be. And though Clarke's soul remained a mystery to Lexa, she knew for certain that her heart held no bad intentions.

**

    When Drek took a different turn to go the healers, Lexa kept on walking straight. There was a place she wanted, needed Clarke to see. Somewhere she knew would get Clarke out of the tower for a few hours a day, apart from the arena. She took a turn left to avoid going into the buzzing streets of Polis, and calmed the blonde's nervousness when she asked where they were heading to.  
     They stopped in front of a large building. It had been patched up several times, red bricks from the old world were mixed with wood and metal, but its look didn't take away the magnificence of its structure. They went in, except for the guards who stayed outside, and Lexa stood back, watching Clarke's face change from grim to awestruck.  
Surrounding them were hundreds of shelves full of books. Lexa had spent hours hiding in between these bookshelves, praying Titus would not find her. Trying to repair the damages he had inflicted on her mind. Alexandria would escape the nightbloods' quarter and sneak out to the library. She would wake up at dawn surrounded by piles of book, would put them back where they belonged with one tucked inside her pants. And though all the nightbloods and some Polis citizens knew, they never sold her out to Titus. But secrets never remain safe. Lexa shook her head at the memories and instead focused on Clarke. The blonde ran her fingers on the books, lips parted and brows furrowed. She stopped at the end of the shelf and turned around.

"- I don't even know how to thank you."

Lexa smiled and walked forward.

"- I used to come here every night when I was a child... And, then after Costia's death." Lexa inhaled. "You may come here everytime you feel the need to, a guard will stand watch outside and no one will come and bother you. Books must be returned after three days. You can only take two at a time.  
\- _Mochof_ , Lexa."

    She nodded and they remained in silence, both appreciating this rare moment of quietness. Lexa sat on a chair under one of the windows and watched Clarke read the behind of some books. After gently putting back the last book, she took another one and caressed its cover.

"- What is it ? Lexa asked.  
\- It was my father's favorite."

**

    They stayed in the library for hours, both reading and enjoying each other company before Alexandria remembered her duties. They left the building in silence and Lexa's guards took the books out of their hands before heading towards the tower. They agreed to meet for lunch and parted ways.  
     Hours later and the question still remained. How ? How did Clarke manage to take down a skillful and fully trained warrior ? How did she master these swift moves when Lexa hadn't even taught her ? She shook her head. There were too many missing parts, too many things she didn't know about Clarke to make any statements. There was no haste.  
     Lexa went to her chambers and instructed her guards not to be disrupted. She sat at her desk and read myriad of letters and reports coming from the ambassadors. Most of them were alarmed about the rumors concerning _Wanheda_. There were reports about people going missing into the southern lands, villages being set on fire out of nowhere, children being abducted. The rumors of _Wanheda_ being in Polis had spread and ambassadors were alarmed and weary. Was _Heda_ aware of her presence ? Why was she letting her stay in Polis ? Was she planning to absorb her power ? Lexa sighed. During the months following Mount Weather's genocide, when Clarke had gained so much respect Grounders recognized the alien as their Commander's equal, when the blood she shed and the lives she saved had spread across the entire land and people began to call her _Wanheda_ , bounties were placed on her head. To kill _Wanheda_ and drink her blood was to absorb her strength and power, weaknesses and stories. Ryder had kept her safe not only from herself but from Grounders. He had kept her sheltered from people's fear and thrive. Had watched over her during her terrifying nights, had killed _Azgeda_ warriors coming to close, had snapped branches to wake her when her screams echoed into the night so loud and bloody and deadly it would hunt him in his sleep for months, would alarm anyone of her presence and of Wanheda's return onto Earth.  
     Lexa knew what kind of memories it brought back to her people. Terrible decades spent in atrocious conditions. Altar being erected in every villages, families strapped to its stones until the Sun hid itself and swamped the lands into plain darkness. And when light deemed it secure enough to enlighten the ground, the oblations were no more, leaving nothing but mere drops of blood behind.  
     But Clarke is not like that.  
     She is pure and loving and selfless. She rules with her head and her heart, finds a way to combine and satisfy both. She feels no pleasure, no thrill, no relieve in shedding blood. She bears the soul of those she killed on her back. They are weighing her down and Clarke lets them because she thinks it is what she deserves.  
     But Clarke is no monster. She is hope, light and love. She is peace and understanding, serenity and ataraxia. She is fierce like a lion, swift like a panther and brave like a wolf. She orders Death but take no joy into having such ability. She is what Lexa aspires to be : a leader who uses their heart, their sentiments as a weapon, who manages to be both merciful and hard.  
     Lexa pushed back this thought with a smile and wrote to each ambassadors signaling people and children going missing that she will send scouting parties in each territory. She shrugged off their interrogations concerning Wanheda's presence in Polis to later. She needed to talk to Clarke first.

**

     She forgot about the need of taking a bath, swallowed down the bill of her bestial voice and the sense of power she felt back at the arena. She stood in wonder a few feet away from the balcony, scared that if she'd move, it would all be just a dream. Her gaze wandered off on the different, untouched canvas. There were eight of different sizes, the biggest one laid on its wooden support. A few sketchbooks were placed on the table, next to an enormous hand-carved box. Clarke went to the table and carefully opened it to reveal a full set of brushes, paints and crayons. She gasped, no sound being able to come out her mouth and she began moving.  
     She opened wide the doors of the balcony, seized the largest canvas and its support and place it in its center. She took hold of two stools, placed one beside the canvas where she positioned the box, and one in front of it ; she sat down, shut her eyes and inhaled.

**

"- Heda, do you want to me to go and get Wanheda ?  
\- _Mochof_ Roni, but I will go myself."

    Lexa had been waiting for Clarke for half an hour already, but the blonde remained absent and the Commander felt her heart falter. Lexa pushed back her chair but as she stood up, the large door of the dining hall opened to reveal a messy and dirty Clarke.

"- I am so sorry, I didn't intend on have you waiting on me."

    Lexa smiled a bright smile and bit her lips to prevent her laughter. Clarke was covered in paint, head to toe. Dark blue and green colored her hair and strikes of white painted her cheek. The clothes she wore were no better and Lexa was not even sure the servants could save them. It was too much and Lexa laughed. Head back and body shaking, her laughter filled the entire room and Clarke took it all in. The way Lexa's teeth were shaped, her intricate breads cornering her face and moving with all the grace Lexa represented. A few seconds later and Clarke joined her too, quickly understanding the state she was in. Their laughter died down, but their smile remained as they looked at each other ; and once again, Lexa felt like she had in the war tent. Vulnerable and bare. At the mercy of Clarke's gaze, unyielding and layered. They remained in their bubble for a few moments, not aware of the many servants' presence. Roni cleared her throat and gestured at the two powerful women to sit down.

"- I see you made use of the tools I've brought you.  
\- _Sha, mochof_ Heda. I hadn't painted since my people and I crashed on Earth, I forgot how much of a therapy it was for me. Lost track of time", Clarke responded, looking down.  
\- I am glad I could help."

    A comfortable silence settled as they ate in silence, Lexa never taking her eyes off of Clarke for too long.  
    It was... nice having Clarke here. Lexa felt warm and serene. Like she had stepped into a breach of time that allowed only peace and calm to shine through. She still had nightmares, though. Still saw Clarke hurting herself and wandering aimlessly amidst the trees. Her nightmares would always end by her death, but would always be a different one. The worst of them all was having Clarke's head delivered to her bed, blue eyes crushed and lips sewn. Alexandria shook her head and looked at Clarke. Her words were engraved in her very deep soul, like a testify of what Lexa had done. Reminding her every day of what she put Clarke through: " _I have forgiven you, Lexa. But I cannot forgive myself for ever trusting you._ " Weeks later and her heart still ached. She would never take back her decision at the mountain, would never apologize for them. It didn't matter that some of her people interpreted it as weakness, the army had left the mountain unarmed and bloodshed had been prevented. For now. But she could not suppress the utter hatred she felt towards herself. She had pushed Clarke to such extent the great _Wanheda_ no longer saw worth in herself, pushed her so much she had almost commanded Death to take her.  
     The fallen star looked up to Lexa, a frown between her brows Lexa so desperately wanted to soothe.

"- Back in the arena, the words I spoke I... I didn't know them. It was like something had taken over me. I saw red and I was just so angry, Lexa."

    Lexa twisted her wrists and the servants left the room. She inhaled, trying to find the words both Alexandria and Heda would agree on and proceeded.

"- The first time I saw red was during my Conclave. Two of my sisters were dead, the sand was soaked in their blood. My weapons were covered in it too and it became too much for me. I do not recall what happened after I released the beast, but when I took control again, their bodies were laying at my feet and my people were chanting my name." Lexa swallowed her tremor down with some wine before adding : "We all have a beast we must learn how to rule.  
\- What if I can't control it ?  
\- I will not let you loose yourself again, Klark." She chewed down her last piece of meat as Clarke pushed her plate away from her. "Go clean yourself and join me afterwards. We'll spare."

**

"- Resist it, Klark, but do not deny it. Use it as a weapon, do no let it overwhelm you." Lexa came back into position. "Breathe, Klark."

    Her Heda mask came back on and the warrior proceeded on teaching Clarke like she would teach any _natblida_. She parred her every attacks with small efforts, giving her advice until Clarke truly understood that her greatest ability was the speed. She stroke her spear with swift agility, kept coming at the Commander with better movements. Clarke pushed her long wooden stick against Lexa's, both putting all their might and force into it until Clarke retrieved her weapon. Lexa stumbled. Clarke punched her elbow into Heda's jaw, pushed her foot onto her stomach but Lexa seized her leg and went for whirling her around when the blonde took out a small stick from the inside of her jacket and threw it. It went for her left shoulder and Lexa let go of her. Not a fatal part, but good.  
      And then it happened. She saw the change in the _Skai Heda_ before the woman herself felt it. Jaw locked, head higher and eyes holding a distance Lexa knew too well.

"- Breathe, Klark."

    Clarke may have heard her but Wanheda sure didn't because she then threw away her weapons to engage a hand-to-hand fight. Lexa did as well and watched _Wanheda_ prowl like a panther. Her back was round, hands raised in tight fists around her face, knees bend, ready to jump. The two women turned around, testing, sensing each other when Clarke growled. She growled like sanity had left her spirits. She growled like she had become wild, stripped from any reason and driven by thirst for fresh blood and hunger for warm flesh. Every warriors in the arena heard it, Lexa knew it. She could feel the tension building in the place, could sense her warriors unsure on how to proceed so she signaled them with a discrete gesture not to intervene.  
     Lexa attacked first. She seized the opportunity of Clarke approaching to punch her. Her nose started bleeding put Clarke did not even grimace. She had this fire in her eyes, this burning desire of sowing Death today and it threw Lexa away. Lexa went for a second punch but _Wanheda_ seized her arms, pulled it so hard Lexa had no other possibility than to come forward. The blonde smashed her knee twice into Lexa's stomach, knocked her strong forearm onto her back and Lexa collapses face first into the dirt. Clarke stood above her, ready to lunch herself forward again when Lexa, turning around to face her, realized: Clarke was lost. Fully lost. There was way Lexa could go gentle on her without getting herself killed, or badly injured. And so Lexa became _Heda_. She hid her feelings, decided she was no goufa. She waited for _Wanheda_ to attack, and swirled her leg, directing all her strength into her tibia. Her opponent snarled but got back up. The Commander lashed out. Her fists and kiks were on every front. She counterattacked and got back up every single time. She blocked _Wanheda_ against her torso and whispered in her ears:

"- Come back, Clarke."

    Her body stiffened and Lexa thought that it was it. But she rolled over, and knocked Lexa on the ground. The blonde prowled around her, lips and nose bleeding. Bruises making themselves known on her arms. She locked eyes with her and saw Clarke trying to come back. She watched her struggle, trying to resist the beast and put back its leach. She saw the guilt wiggling its way out.

"- Resist it, Klark."

 _Wanheda_ lunched herself forward when _Heda_ rolled over and tripped at the sudden movement. The Commander stood above her, brows furrowed and anger irradiating from her but she breathed. She breathed and reminded herself anger served nothing today and let Alexandria shine through. She whispered to Clarke so the other warriors would not hear it, and stretched out her hand.

"- Please, come back to me."

    Her voice cracked and it is all it took for Clarke to return : Alexandria, vulnerable and raw.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Frag em op : Kill her
> 
> I think you guys know by now that I'm always super late when posting chapters (same thing for school lol). I hope each chapter pleases you and makes you forgive me.  
> I started writing out the next one and it triggered me so bad I had an anxiety attack, I'm going to try and change it up a bit so you guys can stay safe.  
> Thank you so much for your kudos guys, it means the world to me


	6. Ai slipfou skeyfaya

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So when re-reading the chapter, I was not triggered by it, though I was when writting the beginning.  
> If you ever wake up feeling heavy and void of any feelings, unable to move or think because it would require an energy you don't have, then proceed carefully.

     Clarke would not sleep. She still felt the beast fully awake inside her, trying to wiggle its way out. She knew if she closed her eyes the nightmares would come back, and she didn't want Lexa to come and wake her up, holding her tight against her chest while she cried the reminescence of her vivid dream. She needed to keep Lexa away from her, as far as she would let her. She could still hear the voice inside her head ordering her to kill her, could still sense the thirst for blood.  
     Clarke sighed and got up to stand in front of her painting. She had drawn Jake in the middle of a clearing, surrounded by fluorecent trees and flowers. He was looking at the sky, full with every constellations he had ever spoken of to Clarke.  
     There were days where she craved his presence, where his absence was so excruciating just existing was painful for Clarke. There were days not even a single thought went to him, there were moments she felt whole. Tonight was not one of those. Clarke took a fur from her bed and laid down on it, perched on the balcony. She looked at the sky, her arm underneath her head and tried to calm her anxiety. She felt empty and heavy. As if void had settled in her being, weighing her down with everything Clarke could and would never cope with. She focused on her vicinity, listened to the whisper of the wind, took notice of the life surrounding her. She tried not to think of how much her father would have loved Polis, how he would have prevented all the deaths Clarke had to carry out. She tried not to think what he would think of his daughter who not so long ago still held peace and comprehension and humanity, tried not to think that she was all alone in this world she so feared.  
     The tears began to flow on their own, lost themselves in her dirty hair as her body started trembling. She hugged her knees against her chest, back to the door and face turned towards the Universe. She stayed like thisuntil the sun rose, body shivering from cold and shaking from ache, unable to move, unable to think.

**

    Roni knocked and waited a few moments for words that never came. She looked at the guards the Commander had momentarily placed in front of Clarke's room, a brow arched questioning them as to why they still hadn't opened her the doors, before they did as asked.  
She knew something was wrong when she was greeted with silence and cold air. She swallowed the lump in her throat and carefully approached. What she saw first was the open balcony. She looked around and took in the view of an untouched bed and of a painting of a man she did not know. She stepped into the room and heard the clatter of the doors to the balustrade. She prayed every god and goddess she knew about that Clarke was okay. That she was alive and well before approaching.  
Roni did not move for a second before falling to her knees behind the Sky Prisa.

"- Clarke..."

    When she got no answer, Roni tried to shake the stiff body but the blonde still did not move. She tried to carry her in her arms but her body was so heavy yet so fragile she could not risk to break it. She took Clarke's pulse and roared:

"- _Hon in Heda_!" ( _Go get Heda)_

**

    She felt herself being carried out of the balcony, strong arms and warm skin against her pale and freezing one. Her breath became ragged, anxiety founding its way back into her being. She sensed soft and chewy fabric underneath her body, heavy fur tucked tightly around her shape. She heard hushed and concerned voices before someone poured a brew down her throat and drowsiness clouded her world.

**

    The sun had long since then hid itself behind grey clouds, spreading a wave of cold to the ground, when Clarke woke up. She tried to remember why she was so tightly tucked in her bed, why an empty mug was sitting beside her head when she froze. Deep down, she could still feel the remains of the void. Still could feel the unsettling feeling she had last night. She sat up lazily, back round and body exhausted and met those eyes. Those beautiful, layered eyes Clarke seemed to always lose herself into.  
    Lexa got up from the chair around the table and approached Clarke. She took her time, tried not scare her away, tried to reassure herself that her fallen star was okay and alive.  
    Clarke’s heart fluttered. She took in this beautiful woman marching toward her with such concern and something else Clarke was not yet ready to name and her breathing became rapid. _How could I ever deserve her._ She still remembered the first time she met the Commander. How she thought she embodied power, might, confidence and command. She had been so scared when entering. A small smile found her lips when Lexa sat down onto her bed, face only inches away from each other.

“- I thought I lost you.”

    Lexa’s whisper ended on Clarke’s beautiful features before she dropped her face. A new wave of sentiments spread through the blonde’s body that she tried not to drown into. She caressed her right cheek and let her hand linger there.

“- You could never.”

    Lexa pressed her cheek against Clarke’s hand before she looked up. The blonde’s gaze fell onto her lips. It fell and lingered on those pouty, soft lips she wanted to kiss, to taste again. She craved the Grounder’s contact and touch. Craved to feel her skin against hers, to hear her moan of pleasure and cry Clarke’s name. Fuck. Their lips brushed. She could feel Lexa’s ragged breath, could smell the scent of her hair and swore she could feel her frantic heartbeat. Or maybe it was hers. The edge of their lips brushed for mere moments before Clarke’s head found its way into the crook of Lexa’s neck. The Commander placed her hands on Clarke’s back and pressed her body against hers.

“- You can’t be around me.  
\- Klark...  
\- They always end up dying. Everyone I care about… I can’t, I… I couldn’t bear it, Lexa.”

    They remained in this position for a long time. They found comfort into each other's presence, eyes closed but soul wide open. Clarke craved of a simple life, where what they felt for one other could be lived without any stain of blood and drama. Lexa wished nothing more than to be able to bear Clarke's burden and despair. She put an end to this embrace that both healed her and scarred her.

“- I will have food send to your room. Dress yourself up.  
-Where are we going ?  
\- Polis.”

**

    They saw _Wanheda_ before they saw _Heda_ , hair so blonde she seemed to glow under the Sun's warm rays. They gave her a wide berth as she slowly walked forward, startruck by _Wanheda_ 's presence, by the fact that she was standing in front of them before murmurs propagated themselves amongst the crowd. Lexa kept herself a few feet behind Clarke as to see how her people would react to such a presence, if they would hate her, be frightened or accept her. She looked around, hand close to her sword as an old woman stepped out of the crowd and met Clarke.  
     She did not anticipate that.  
     The old woman fell on her knees and bowed. Her forehead was touching the ground, knees deep into the mud and she stayed like this for a few second before they heard the blonde's shaky voice.

"- _Beja, gyon op_.” _(Please, rise)_

    Clarke held out a hand for the old woman to grab, and she did. She grabbed it and held onto it firmly as she looked into her eyes, and Clarke felt bare. She felt her soul being searched and ripped open. The messy stitches of her scars bursting and being neatly sewn back together, the storm inside of her mind calming down into quiet rain. _Who are you ?_ Clarke’s eyes widened as she swore she heard a reply but the woman's lips remained sealed, though a smile appeared and lit up her eyes. Clarke bowed her head when she felt her soul being left alone and said:

“- _Mochof. Yu meikas don ste ona keryon." (Thank you. You hands were on my soul.)_

    The woman bowed and the citizens of Polis took this as a reassuring gesture because the streets began to be loud. People from every age wanted to touch Clarke and thank her. She tried to return every gesture, tried to smile to each individual and not break into tears. She felt a hand on her lower back and rotated to find Lexa. Bare from any mask and war paint, Clarke could see pride and unshed happy tears in her eyes. Her gaze fell onto her lips to find a smile reflecting her eyes and Clarke replicated it. Both women stayed in this street as Lexa’s people shook their hands and shoulders, as they were swarmed with love and gratitude. Clarke would be lying if she said she did not cry. Multiple times she found her cheeks being stroke by warriors, traders and children, a smile on their face as Clarke held each wrists. Lexa’s and Clarke's shoulders would always grazed, unconsciously reassuring each other. After an hour of loving chaos, they walked through the streets of the capital Lexa was so proud of.  
    Clarke took it all in. The torches lit at every trading spots, the screams of the traders as they showed off their goods. Clarke’s stomach rumbled as the scent of cooking meat met her nose. She blushed and looked at Lexa who was restraining a laugh before the Commander gestured to their left. Clarke had never seen her so happy and relaxed. She seemed free of any responsibilities and burdens, looked like the most beautiful and typical Grounder girl who could exist. Her blue eyes followed her every movements as Lexa talked to the cook. She smiled as she saw her laugh and blush when the man talked about _Wanheda. Wait, what ?_

“- What did he say ?  
\- That I was lucky.” Lexa answered while looking at the chef listening to their conversation, a soft smile on his lips as he prepared their collation.  
\- Why ?  
\- Because you only have eyes for me.” Clarke tried to hide her smile and red face as she heard the numerous Grounders laughing.  
“- It is okay, _Wanheda_. _Heda_ Lexa makes everyone fall under her beauty.” The blonde laughed, while Lexa furiously blushed.  
“- Are you blushing, Commander ?  
\- Are you mocking me, Clarke of the sky people ?  
\- I would never !” she retorked with so much drama it caused the thirsty-ish Grounders surrounding them to laugh. “Someone we both know very well once told me that mockery is not the product of a strong mind. I now live by their words.”

    The two women snorted and left the loud shop after promising they would one day return, hot food in their hands. Clarke moaned as she took a slice of warm and fresh bread. She’d missed bread on earth, though the one she ate in her cell would have made her French great-grandmother turn into her grave. She finished her slice in silence and licked her fingers, causing Lexa to snort and Clarke’s elbow to hit her in her side. Chants of Heda and Wanheda began as they passed by a Blacksmith and a Fletcher. They went to the Blacksmith first. Lexa knew him already. Before the _Kongeda (coalition)_ , when Ice Nation was at war against _Trikru_ , he came in Polis to seek asylum. He swore his loyalty to Lexa to grant him this, had explained how his family had been killed by Azgeda warriors because his husband pushed one of them on a buzzy street. He gave every information he could, every small detail he could think of to help his Heda defeat the nation he no longer declared his. Clarke stood ajar as the two gripped each other forearm.

“- _Yiva, shopta ? (how are you)_  
\- _Ai laik os_ , Lexa. I am happy to see you.  
\- So am I. How is your husband ?  
\- _Os_. He wishes to invite you for dinner to thank you.  
\- One day I might.” She smiled and looked at Clarke. “Yiva, I present you _Klark kom Skaikru._  
\- _Wanheda_.” He bowed low, jaw tight and apprehension in his eyes, before Clarke offered him a warm smile.  
“- Please, call me Clarke.”

    Yiva acknowledged her words with a bow and engaged a new conversation with the Commander. Clarke took in the shop, the long swords plastered on the walls amidst the intimidating axes. She looked on the counter where blade were showed off. There was no doubt each and every single one of them were deadly and sharp enough to draw blood in an instant. Her eyes finally led on the knife in front of her and she swore she had never seen such a beautiful weapon before, except perhaps for Lexa’s swords. She ran her fingers along the blade were roses and delicate lines were engraved. On its leathered end was a red rose neatly sewn, threads of gold lining the petals of the rose and the skin. She took it in her hand to see its weight and balance, and smiled. This was nothing like the knife she had when wandering the woods. This one was both heavy and light as a feather. Deadly and beautiful.

“- Do you wish to try it out, _Wanheda_ ?  
-May I ?  
\- _Sha_.”

    A crowd began to form as words spread. She took a few steps back and twirled the knife in her hand with a smile before Clarke aimed at the wooden wall were a target of three colors was painted, dozens of holes letting the sun shine through. She inhaled and cleared her mind of any nuisance. She cracked her wrist and hurled the poniard.  
     A silence settled over the mass.  
    The knife was planted at the very center of the target, into the smallest round unnoticeable from where Clarke stood. Yiva nodded to the Grounders and cheers began erupting. This was a target usually missed due to its size and Clarke had done it. Lexa beamed with pride and joy at the blonde’s accomplishment. She was loved by her people and Lexa felt like this was the permission she needed. She approached what Titus would call _em kwelnes (her weakness)_ and murmured :

“- You did great, _Klark kom Skaikru._  
\- Thank you, Commander.  
\- _Wanheda_ , please take this blade. It would be an honor for me to have you fight and protected with my work.  
-Thank you, Yiva.  
\- _Heda_ , sad shuda up. (Choose a weapon)”

**

    They remained in Polis until their arms was full of gifts they hadn't been able to turn down from Lexa's people, and until the chill air of the coming winter settled over Polis. Clarke lost count of how many smiles, thanks and bowed she had gained, but remembered every angry and fearful gaze that came her way. And even as she had been able to _sense_ the hard feelings some Grounders had for her, she had never felt so loved around so many people. Yes, _loved_. She looked at Lexa who sat onto the floor of Clarke's bedroom, eating while admiring her painting. She had tried all day to erase the unsettling feeling she had whenever she looked at the brunette, the happiness she vibrated with everytime Lexa would look at her and the fire in her stomach when they would touch. She was so deep in this. She could still feel the betrayal she felt back at Mount Weather and still did not know if she trusted the Commander with her people, but she knew she trusted Lexa with her life. She had felt the wave of protection and care coming from her every time one foolish Grounder gave her a harsh look, hand on the tip of her sword while she gave them the Commander stare. Clarke smiled next to her, with her own plate between her hands and enjoyed this peaceful moment. She told Lexa this morning she couldn't stay close to her because she would not be able to recover from her death, but Lexa gave her a strengh and a serenity Clarke did not know she had in herself. She felt stronger, more stable each time she would be in her presence and Clarke was selfishly willing to take the risk.  
     Lexa's knee grazed against Clarke's and she spoke.

"- Who was this man ?  
\- My father." Clarke looked over to the painting and smiled painfully. "He would have loved it here, you know ? He was like you in some ways. Hated wars and conflicts, always dreamed of a peaceful life. He was a father to every orphan child on the Ark, and there were a lot.  
\- What happened to him ?  
\- He... He was an engineer on the Ark, we were one of the priviliged. One day he found out that the air supply was failing. There would not be enough oxygen to last more years... He was a man of the people, my dad. He believed they deserved to know the truth so every one would come up with ideas and solutions. My mother and the council did not agree and he was floated. They sent me to prison because I knew the truth, until I turned 18 and I'd be floated too.  
\- I'm sorry." Clarke nodded and chewed on her food, eyes glued to the painting.  
"- He would have loved you, Lexa. He would maybe have thrown a fit because he'd say no child should bare such burdens, but he would have loved you." Lexa smiled and pushed her knee against Clarke.  
"- So that is why you have such a bad relationship with your mother.  
\- Yeah. Wells, Jaha's son, put the blame on himself so I would not blame her. I hated him with every fiber of my being because I thought he was reponsible for my father's death and he endured it to protect me. My mother knew it and said nothing."

    She felt Lexa shift, and Clarke averted her eyes from the painting to her face. Lexa’s jaw went back and forth as it clenched. Their shoulder laid against each other and they remained in this position until the sun was replaced by the moon. Until they were left in the dark with only the moonlight to light up the their figure. Clarke could slowly feel herself leaning against Lexa, drifting off to sleep. Lexa enveloped Clarke's figure with an arm, hoping she was not over-stepping but was welcomed with the blonde’s head in the crook of her neck. She remained wide awake, soaking in this moment, healing and sewing and putting back together pieces of her heart and soul she thought would never heal after Costia’s death and the Mountain. She remained wide awake, listening to Clarke’s breath and relishing in her warmth.

“- _Ai slipfou skeyfaya_ …”

**

“- Who was that woman, back in the streets ?  
\- Em ste _Nounplana_. She is one of the elder of Polis.  
\- _Nounplana_?  
\- Wise woman.” Lexa watched as a shooting star passed the sky and smiled. “She is one of the gifted.  
\- Gifted ? I’m sorry Lexa, I’m not following.  
\- After the bombs dropped, new-born children developed abilities gifted by the Gods and Goddess. Their spirits were higher, more genuine and aware of the souls and spirits.” Clarke nodded thoughtfully.  
“- I felt her in my mind. Like she was scanning my soul and repairing my wounds. I felt… serene and in peace with myself. And I still do to some extent.  
\- She used her ability to smooth the edges of your pain. It is a gift the wise do not often offer, Clarke.”

    The stars were bright tonight. Moon white as a pearl as its rays protected the city, the air cold as winter approached. The first snow would arrive in a few weeks, the ground would become more muddy and their breath would start coming out as fog. The eastern paunas would soon leave and migrate to the south, she had to start sending hunting parties. She needed to take care of the Skaikru too. Though they were not in the Coalition yet, Lexa had promised herself she'd watch over them while Clarke took the time she needed to heal herself. She knew in a few weeks time she'd want to go back to Arkadia and her people, to her family and Lexa couldn't help but feel a pang in her heart. _Selfish..._

"- Do you think they are okay ? Arkadia, do you think they are okay ?" She added after Lexa's silence.  
\- We will talk about that later, Klark. There is no place for worry when the sky is so beautiful tonight."

    Her eyes never left Clarke's profile as she spoke. She took in the constellations of her freckles on the bridge of her nose, the red nose and cheeks from the chill night. She took it all in as she felt the sky girl step closer to her under the warm furr. Her eyes remained on Clarke, did not falter as she turned her face towards her.  
     Her heart did.

"- I heard you talk previously... _'Ai slipfou skeyfaya'_ ?"

    She swallowed down the lump in her throat and her eyes searched for a warning that Clarke was not ready to hear it. She went back to today, how careless and happy she had felt. How her stomach would not stop the flames from igniting every time Clarke would touch her or look at her with what Lexa was too scared to put a label on. She remembered the sky girl's eyes, the joy she saw in them and how void of any burdens she was, back into the streets of the capital. She felt her heart blossom with a new wave of _love_ and _admiration_ and _gratefulness_ as she recalled the respect that came from both Clarke and Lexa's people to one another, and spoke.

"- My fallen star."

    Alexandria waited for something, just something telling her she had made a mistake. She shivered and tensed and waited before words she thought would never come escaped her mouth.

"- Kiss me..." Clarke whispered, afraid that this was all just a dream. "Lexa, kiss me."

    Alexandria did not need more to assuage her aching heart. She turned around to face Clarke, eyes glistening with unshed tears as her hand laid behing the blonde's neck. Their noses brushed for a second before their lips touched and embraced each other. It was soft and laced with every feeling, every word, sentance, touch and regard they shared for one another. It was soft and raw and delicate and layered. _So deeply_ layered.  
     They kissed for a long time, only stopping to turn their head and get some air, before tasting each other again. The kisses remained slow and languorous and consuming. They contained all the apologies, all the promises and all the I love you's the two leaders were not yet ready to give to each other.  
     Clarke pressed her forehead against Lexa's and envelopped her arms around her form. They breathed into each other, listened to the other's soothing breathing. They found solace into their embrace as a rain of shooting stars passed over their head and the trees became silent. There were no noises, no whispers, no wind. It was like the earth had calmed like the silent storm inside of Clarke had.

    And the blonde swore she sensed her spirit and soul roar and connect with Lexa's entire being; now forever entwining themselves.  
    And thus, linked even after Death tear them apart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can't believe I wrote a chapter in a week...  
> Anyway, sorry for all the faults, no online correctors are currently working so yeaaah. 
> 
> Thank you for your kudos and comments, I was sooo happy when I found out you guys reacted to my story.  
> (PS1: I hope you spotted the reference to the "she thought nanana was pretty but I thought she was prettier" meme)  
> (PS2: My final exams are in three weeks and I still have 5 orals to prepare and revisions to start, thus I don't know when I'll post the next chapter)


	7. Skaikru

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One-shots of Clarke's time in the woods will be uploaded in "hurting", which can be seen as a prequel to Healing.

    She watched her as she slept, eyes taking her tattoos all in, fingers running on her soft skin. She watched her sleep, serene and peaceful, devoid of any titles and burdens. She knew how much trust she must had in her to let someone see her in a state so vulnerable. She acknowledged that this was a part of Lexa she was the only one allowed to see, and understood the weight of it all. Lexa was willing to let her in, exposing herself to heartache and danger...  
     Clarke smiled and kissed Lexa's shoulder. She had never felt so happy and protected, so calm and weightless. She could still feel the love Lexa had poured into their kisses last night, could still taste all her fears and concerns. They were both deep into this tornado of feelings and Clarke remembered Costia and how Lexa had been left broken, all alone to put back some pieces together and hold herself at night. She remembered the Grounder's salty tear as they kissed, remembered her soft smile after they pulled away, panting with the heaviness of the moment. Lexa was a gift to the world. Soft and strong, delicate and raw.  
     Clarke kissed her shoulder a second time. She could not believe how much the woman had been through, yet witnessed it with every scar showing off above her binding. She wished she had been able to hold Lexa onto her chest while she cried herself to sleep after all the losses she endured. She wished she had let the beautiful woman laying next to her in sooner. Clarke could feel the peaceful time running out of their fingers and wondered if there would ever be enough time for the both of them. There were so many things she wanted to share and discover with Lexa: their first sunset together, traveling, their first snow, drawing, making love to each other, kisses, unconditional love and support to one another. She wanted to take in the fights ending in love-making sessions, fights that would leave their heart aching as they'd sleep away from each other until they'd kissed and the world would find its meaning again. She wanted to get to know grumpy Lexa, loving Lexa, happy Lexa, sad Lexa. She wanted Lexa and all her burdens, craving nothing more than to make the Grounder realize she was not alone anymore. Clarke sighed. A kiss and she was already in over her head... But that was wrong, though. It had not been just one kiss (multiple actually, but anyway), it was the fact that she felt, that she felt their souls entwining themselves. It was the fact that her heart roared, and her soul glowed. Clarke had never been a spiritual person until she met Lexa, but she sensed their souls coming back together like long time lovers, like two missing parts of a puzzle finally finding their purpose again. A tear rolled down her cheek as she sensed the bond now newly formed inside her chest, reassuring her that what happened was not a hallucination.  
     She smiled again and heard Lexa's breath change for a split-second before it went back to normal. Clarke laughed and leaned in.

"- I know you're awake, sleeping beauty."

    Lexa kept her eyes firmly shut and Clarke had an idea. She kept her fingers running down her arm and kissed her shoulder. _Still not moving._ She trailed kisses along her shoulder blade, slowly going upwards until she placed a wet kiss above her collarbones and Lexa shivered. Clarke smiled again and caressed this spot with her tongue, teeth grazing the soft skin and leaving a mark before going up. Her lips caressed Lexa's, eyes trained on her lids when the Grounder shot them open.

"- I knew you were awake." Clarke said, pulling back ever so slightly.  
"- Do I have to pretend that I am not for you to finally kiss me ?"

    Clarke laughed and leaned in, taunting Lexa by not putting any pressure on her lips before she gave in, unable to resist any more. The kiss was slow and soft. Tender and delicate with the novelty of the moment, their previous kiss and their first one in mind. Clarke pulled back and took in Lexa's beautiful sleepy face and smile. Her eyes were still teary as she smiled back, a hand playing with her brown hair.

"- Are you okay, Clarke ?" Lexa frowned and caressed Clarke's arm.  
"- This is the first time in months that I wake up feeling glad I'm alive.  
\- Klark...  
\- You make me feel alive, Lexa. You give me a reason to get up every morning, whether it's for you to hand me over my ass, for us to get lunch or for me to be able to see a glimpse of you. You make me feel full of life, and I've never felt like that before. Not even on the Ark. Lexa, I... I...  
\- I know."

    And it was all it took for Clarke to lean in again and capture Lexa's lips. The Grounder flipped her on her back and deepened the kiss when Clarke gasped and smiled. They slept in their undergarments this night, thus every inch of their skin touched and burned with a fire they had never quite experienced before. Clarke whimpered, craving more contact and Lexa followed suit. She positioned herself above Clarke, a leg between her thighs as the other one encircled her body, core against core, abs against abs. The blonde's hips bucked at the sudden pressure, and threw her head back. Lexa took this opportunity to trail wet kisses down her neck, teeth sometime grazing the skin as she heard her whimper again. The air was heavy with attraction and need, the only thing being heard were Lexa's kisses and Clarke's moans.  
     Clarke's hands were every were and Lexa was loosing her sanity. They traveled from her shoulders to her biceps and she grasped them when Lexa fed her need with a rolling of her hip. They wandered on her back, tracing her every scars, digging her fingernails as the brunette left a hickey above her cleavage. When Clarke took a hold of Lexa's firm ass and gasped at the sudden movement, she flipped her off and took control.

"- You're so beautiful..." Clarke whispered.

    Hair sprawled out on the pillow, Alexandria looked like an angel. A sinful one. Her pupils were blown out, eyes black with lust and desire. Clarke leaned in and pressed kisses down her stomach until the hem of her short and went back up again by licking her stomach. Lexa sighed, chest heaving in and out rapidly.

"- Clarke..." Lexa whispered, trying to remain in control of her voice and body.

    Clarke groaned, lips pressed hard and needy against Lexa's, when someone knocked on the damn, freaking door. Lexa caressed the blonde's neck as she pressed their forehead together, eyes closed. They remained like that for a few seconds until a second knock was heard and both women commanded in trigedasleng to give them a second.

"- It was too good to be true..." Clarke whispered as she stood up and Lexa smiled.

     They dressed in silence, Lexa's clothes neatly folded on the bedside table while Clarke's were scattered on the floor. They brushed their teeth and then chewed on some mint leaves. Their elbows kept on touching as if to reassure themselves that the other was by their side, a smile would creep up every time their eyes would cross in the mirror. Clarke's cheeks flushed and her heart fluttered, a joy she had long since forgotten existed lingered in her heart and stomach, and she was scared. Because every time she felt contentment and joy on the ground, her world would burn into ashes and Clarke would be left alone to mend back the pieces of her heart.  
It had first been the two headed deer reminding her and her people that radiations existed and effected the world, it was then Octavia almost drowning in her first swim, Jasper being pinned down a tree after they cried of happiness.  
     It was Finn dying, Anya dying, Lexa injured, Lexa leaving.  
     Clarke felt strong arms around her waist before Lexa set down her head on her shoulder. She kissed her jaw and hummed in contentment as they both closed their eyes.

"- I'm okay.  
\- I know.  
\- We need to go...  
\- I know."

    And though Lexa knew, Alexandria remained in this position. Enveloped by Clarke's scent and warmth, she wondered if there was an other place that could soothe her like that.

**

    Clarke was fuming. She paced back and forth, mumbling words Lexa could not understand, and sometimes stopped to grunt and roar. She could sense the tickle in her neck, the frantic rhythm of her heart and the red, blinding anger menacing to besiege her. And _oh fuck_ , she tried, she fucking tried to calm her rage down but the more she thought about it, the more thirsty she became.

"- He has no right speaking to you like that ! How dare he talk you down like you are a fucking child ! You are the Commander for fuck's sake !"

     Clarke went back to pacing, her entire body shaking as she thought of the man.  
     When they opened the door of her bedroom, both women were met with a furious bald man. He had latched onto Lexa, looked at her like she was a worthless branwoda. Like she had lost her mind, had made the most foolish decision she could ever come up with. And then he had looked at her, eyes full with a fury Clarke knew too well. She had placed herself in front of Lexa, as if she could shield the Commander from heartache and abuse, furthermore absorbing it all, and said with a voice Clarke recognized as Wanheda's. _"Yu beda gon we fou bilaik ai teik yu."_ Titus had scurried away like the coward that he was, and Clarke was now pacing into the war room, where Lexa had taken her into.

"- _Nomajoka_." She finally mumbled.

    If she hadn't been so focused on her wrath, she would have heard Lexa's soft laugh and sense her moving. But she did not, and solely concentrated on not unleashing the beast.  
     Clarke could feel it tugging, growing hungrier by the seconds. She could feel her breathing going frantic, the red slowly crippling its way in her mind until she'd be to far in to come back without assuaging her needs. She tried to compose herself like Lexa had taught her " _Remind yourself who you are, and what your battles are, Klark._ " but as Wanheda gained more ascendancy, Clarke could not recall who she was. Because the memories she so desperately tried to release were not hers, because she did not remember slaughtering families strapped to altars. Wanheda gripped the handle of the knife the Commander was forcing her to wear, nails drawing blood as they dig into her palm but Leksa moved faster. Her hands massaged her shoulders, sweet words escaped her mouth as she brought Clarke back to her.  
     The fallen star leaned into the touch. She closed her eyes, began to ground herself. She focused on Alexandria's breathing, on the way her hands moved onto her knotted spots, and leaned in further. She could feel the warmth irradiating from the Grounder, hear her pulse inside her head, sense the wave of love pouring onto her. She searched her soul, desperate to find that bond she had detected this morning. She followed the distant fire in her mind, traveled through layers of past lives she had never knew were there until she came on the ground, and reached it.

"- Do you feel it too ?  
\- Yes..." Lexa breathed one last time Clarke's scent and pulled away, not without a last squeeze on Clarke's shoulders. "I have something to show you." Lexa marched to the war table and bend to a hidden hole inside of it. "Yesterday night, you asked me if your people were okay. I was waiting for you to be ready, but I believe the time has come." She handed Clarke a black box.

    Clarke took a hold of it and paused. She knew of only one person to be able to build this old-world radio.

"- Raven...  
\- _Sha_... After the battle at Mount Weather, I sent healers to assist your people. It was a way for me to see where the Skaikru stood. Kane came back at the end of the day to thank me and talk about a future alliance. Through various meetings, we agreed to blend both of our people. The Skaikru helped to rebuild TonDC and Trikru contributed to enlarger and enforce Arkadia. I received this... Radio as Raven calls it a month after that. More are being built to this day.  
\- So everyone is okay ?  
\- Yes."

    Clarke breathed. Relieved washed over her as she studied the radio, taking in the fact that Raven had something to work on, that Kane was doing the right things and that tensions were easing between the two people. She had walked away, had abandoned them in their worst crisis but they were still standing, and her guilt began to fade. They were healing and so was she, building a future for themselves that would have been impossible with her ache plaguing their home. And perhaps she was wrong, perhaps they no longer were a ticking-bomb, a reckless people that she would forever be forced to bear their aftermaths. And maybe she had to trust people again, and believe that the flawed human kind could change for the better.

"- I believe conversing over our two people is not the sole purpose of this gift. They asked multiple times if I had news of you. I have not shared anything.  
\- Thank you, Lexa..."

    The Commander nodded and gave Clarke a moment to reassemble her thoughts. She could feel her internal struggle between reaching out or not, assuring her role as a leader, a side she put aside for a long time, and her role as a person. Clarke was frowning, biting the inside of cheeks and she wanted nothing more than to reach out to her and soothe her pain but this was a decision Clarke had to make on her own.

"- When are they supposed to reach out ?  
\- In a few moments, though your friend is quite unpredictable." This got a smile out of Clarke and her frown to disappear.  
"- Can you make sure she is alone ?  
\- Sha."

    The Gods and Godess must have heard their conversation because the radio crackled before Kane spoke. Clarke took a sit next to the war table, jaw locked and gaze determined as she turned into the leader she has always been. She listened to the now Chancellor and the Commander talk about the advance of Arkadia and TonDC, of the vegetables they were growing and the trades between _Skaikru_ and _Trikru_. She nodded to herself when he spoke about their people bonding and mingling. This was good. Her people were acclimating, Kane had an answer for every questions Heda asked and did not dwell on unimportant words.

"- Chancellor, bring Raven. I want to speak with her. Alone." It took a minute for her command to be followed before a voice emerged.  
"- Commander. Is there a problem with the radio ?  
\- Are you alone ?  
\- Yes."

    She watched the origin of her torments being laid on the table but she did not move. She could feel the anxiety building up, its burning fire threatening to devour her whole, to reduce everything she worked so hard to put back together to ashes. Clarke abandoned them. She raised the hundred when they came down onto Earth, took care of them when sleep did not find her. She tamed the wildness of their spirit, gave them something to look forward to other than assuaging their revenge and thrusting bullets into each other. And then she left. She left them to deal with the aftermaths of the Mountain, with the tornado that were the past few months. It was time she came back and stopped being selfish. Her mental health was not the only that suffered, and her people's survival was more important than her little being. _I bear it so they don't have to._

"- Raven, it's Clarke."

    The line remained silent for a few seconds that ate at Clarke's sanity. She scratched her arms until blood leaked out of her self-indicted wounds. She understood the gravity of the situation, understood why it was so hard for Raven to answer because what was happening sent the sky girl on edge too. There were not many outcomes to the situation, Raven could reach out or leave. And deep down, Clarke hoped she could leave herself too. She was about to lay the radio down when the old-world tech crackled.

"- You motherfucker ! Where the fuck have you been ? Everyone's worried sick, we've sent more hunting parties than I can recount, and you know I'm a fucking genius !" She spat, causing a tight smile from Clarke to appear at the flow of swear words.  
"- I'm okay, Raven. I promise.  
\- Abby will not believe it until she sees you... Seriously though, everyone's gone mental without you. Your mother went batshit crazy and we had to remove her from the council!  
\- You will _not_ tell her." Clarke commanded before she realized the magnitude of her tone. "I'm sorry, Rae. I didn't mean to...  
\- I know, princess. So, when you coming back ? I like Kane but he's too soft for my liking." Clarke felt Lexa shift. Her words could be treason and Clarke understood why she felt uncomfortable but reassured her. Skaikru's way of functioning were far different from the Grounders'.  
"- I'm not ready yet."

    The casual conversation was over and Clarke straightened her back, a mask similar to Heda's replacing her features.

"- Did you manage to bring back electricity ? Winter is approaching and you will freeze to death into the metal structure of the Ark. You need to stock up fur and dried meat. It will be harder to hunt during winter and until you learn how to properly hunt, you need to make sure we have enough provisions to last through the season.  
\- Yeah, electricity came back a few weeks ago. I need to find solar panels to provide heat and light durably.  
\- I will see what I can do. Are you still using guns to protect yourself ?  
\- Yes. Some wants to go to the mountain to bring back more, but Kane has pushed back the question. He doesn't know what to do.  
\- This is not a possibility, Raven. Gun supplies will run out and going to the mountain will only buy us time, if we put aside how much disrespectful it would be to the Grounders. The Ark needs to adapt to the ground.  
\- I agree with you, but there is little I can do without you here, Clarke. Kane is the Chancellor, you should speak with him but I don't believe he'll listen to you. I think he wants to redeem himself for what he did in space." Clarke sighed.  
"- I... Thank you, Raven. I owe you.  
\- I don't know if you'll ever be able to pay me back." She snorted. "But you can try.  
\- Would solar panels and old world tech work ?  
\- Fuck, yes. You know how to speak to a lady." The mechanic rasped with seduction before Clarke laughed.  
"- You are no lady, Raven.  
\- Do you want me to remind you of the ti..." Clarke cut her off before she could divulge any compromising information.  
"- Bye, Rae. Take care of the others."

    Clarke laid back into the chair, a small smile at her lips while she tried not to cry. They were okay, they were okay. Before she registered what was happening, her body was shaking with sobs. They were okay and alive and Clarke had not sentenced them to die. They were okay and alive and Clarke had succeeded. _I didn't kill them. **I** didn't kill them._ Relief washed over her, taking away the images of her people burning and screaming, of her people lapidating her and hunting her down. Clarke opened her eyes when hands squeezed her knees and lost herself in concerned, warm green eyes.

"- They are okay, Lexa..." She whispered, more tears streaming down her face.  
"- I know... I took care of them." _I took care of them because I could not take care of you. I took care of them because I needed to think about something else than your absence. Because I needed you to forgive me._  
"- Thank you so much, Lexa." Clarke whispered into her ear, holding the Grounder tighter to her body.

    Her sobs subdued, but her racing heart kept its frantic rhythm. She'd had news of her people and they were okay, and there, between her arms, was the woman she loved. Warmth spread through her being and the anger she still felt after her bad dreams or during her moments of dumbness vanished. She loved Lexa. She loved how much she cared, the smile that she seemed to only have when around Clarke. She loved how selfless, how dedicated she was to her people and to her. She loved Lexa and oh God, it felt so good to be able to focus on something else than her ravaging hatred and anger.

"- I'm not angry anymore." Clarke whispered.

    Lexa pulled back to be able to stare in the blonde's eyes, tears threatening to spill and she smiled. She smiled wide, teeth showing and dimples out. She leaned in, resting her forehead against Clarke's and let herself be washed by relief and joy. She forgot her duties and responsibilites, her titles and the legends about her. In the safety of each other's arms, they were free to simply be.

**  
  
     They spend the day gravitating toward each other, always seeing each other's face even from far away, eyes locking for a second with a tenderness they were not able to hide. Clarke fought tirelessly at the pit, balancing between her inner strengths and Wanheda's, never losing herself to the storm that had lingered in her mind only a few hours ago. She fought with Drek and learned patience, and peace of mind. " _The only way you can win a battle is if you solely focus on your opponent's movements and yours._ " When the Sun decided it was time to rest, Lexa was waiting for Clarke at the entrance of the arena. They walked back to the tower in silence, close enough so they could feel the other's warmth, but far enough than no one could understand.  
     And when the stars and the Moon were the only source of light enlightening the blonde's room, they held each other so tight you could not find one's beginning and the other's end.  
      It was during this moment that the Sun promised herself that no harm would come to her child.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yu beda gon we fou bilaik ai teik yu. = You should leave before I make you.  
> Nomajoka.= Motherfucker.
> 
> Hi guys !!  
> I hope your summer is going great and strong. My finals are finally over and I'm waiting for the results now. This chapter is kinda boring, nothing much happens but those kind of chapters are, in my opinion, necessary. I hope you take care of yourself, don't forget to drink water and take your medications.
> 
> Ps: I'm writing one-shots about Clarke's time in the wild. I don't know if I should post them in another work or in this one ? I write these OS by getting inspiration from words. Like I have downloaded a inspiration page with 500 words and my eyes fell on "knife" so I wrote it. If you have a request, something you want to learn about Clarke's journey, comment it and I'll see what I can do


	8. The Hunt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You'll need to read Hurting ( the weird-ass prequel of Healing) before or after reading this chapter.  
> And if anyone wants to be my beta-reader, it would be really nice.

    She left the room in a hurry, forgetting her lump and the pain that would later come that day. Her thoughts were frantic. There were too many facts, too many things running in her mind. She was used to it, normally. Her thoughts had always whirled, had always taken up so much space the other kids on the Ark had often considered her weird. But her brain was something she had learned to embrace, and even more since the accident. Her intelligence was all that she had now, all that kept her from being a burden. But right now, right here, she did not know what to do, and that bothered Raven. Solutions and fixing problems were the only thing she was good at, and she was at loss.  
     She wanted to scream at the top of her lungs that Clarke, her sister, was alive. She wanted to light things on fire, fly a plane like in the old-world movies with a banner attached to its tail saying "Clarke is alive" but, well she didn't have a plane at her disposition (she definitely had to change that), and things were more complicated than that. As she got out of the metal box that was the Ark, she sat down at the make-shift bar and let her gaze linger on her people. She needed to make sure Clarke could return, needed to prepare the ground, needed to know who would oppose, who would be fine with it - with Clarke -, and who would welcome it. And so she made a mental list, placing people in pro-return, against, or unknown. She checked every Skaikru from afar, remembered every discussion and every reaction about Clarke.  
     Jasper stumbled a few meters away from her and Raven winced. No matter the amount of talk she could have with him, she knew he would oppose the most her return.  
     With all the informations she'd just stored in her palais mental, she left the stool and began her mission.

**

    Blood was everywhere. It was in the air, in her veins, in her throat, on her blades. It was in the muffled cries, in the chains, in her eyes. She could feel it, the throbbing need in her temples and rib cage, this thirst for revenge and this wrath that will never go away. She couldn't think about it, couldn't see the images of her nontu's lifeless body laying in their home, couldn't remember what happened afterwards except for the aftermaths of her actions : anger, and the purity of her soul forever gone. Something had changed, a part of her spirit she didn't want to acknowledge had unlocked itself to free a beast that was irrepressible. It was slowly eating her away, making its presence known and feeding its fire until she would become a monster feared even by the Gods and Goddess.  
     And there were times where Klarissa would manage to escape its grasp, but the anguish caused by every life she had taken were too much for her to handle. These moments of consciousness were worst than letting herself be lost to the beast. They involved too much physical and mental pain, they involved too much longing, and cries, and tears. It was unbearable, and her Spirit was slowly slipping away.  
     She turned around to take in this family that was now no longer strapped to the altar of their village, but chained to walls of rocks from an ancient ruined. The two children were already dead, their blood burning in hers, feeding the beast and its powers. Traces of their blood were on the corners of her mouth, it left a red stain in the big golden cup that she poured their blood into after splitting their throat open.  
     She found each blood to have a different taste, each people's red liquid was tainted with the promises of Life. It was forged by the Sun and the Moon, by the Forest and the Sea. It held one's power, and with each dead body, she felt herself getting stronger, faster. More powerful. The cries from one of the mother woke her up from her thoughts, and with a wicked grin, approached her. She let her blade trace the curves of her jaw and neck, let it line her left arm and outline her chest until it went to the woman's stomach and she cried again. Klarissa frowned, put back the blade in its holder on her waist, and closed her eyes, hands on the woman's abdomen. She could hear its heartbeat, its life vibrating through her veins, the promises of a life blessed by the gods. There was something from that child she could sense, yet couldn't understand.

"- _Em laik gada_." She whispered, to herself or to the soon-to-be mother, she didn't know.

**

    Clarke woke up in a sweaty state again, hair and clothes stuck to her body. _Another nightmare..._ But this kind of nightmares became longer each night, unraveling more. They left Clarke feeling anxious and uneasy for the entire day, because those nightmares didn't feel like nightmares. They felt like memories of a past life. They carried an ache that didn't feel unusual, that sat in her chest heavy but like a reminder. She knew that pain, from this life on the ground and on the Ark, but more so from before. And she didn't know what to think about it.  
     She turned around, expecting to see Lexa laying beside her but her side was empty, the only remain of her presence being the warmth of her pillow.

"- Another nightmare ?"

    Clarke popped herself on her elbows to get a clear view of this beautiful woman standing at the entrance of the bathroom. Her hair was wet, body covered in tight leathers and fur. _Beautiful_.

"- Sort of... The more I have them, the more I feel like they aren't just nightmares, you know. They seem so... real.  
\- You should talk with the _Nounplana_. She could aid you in discovering their meaning." Clarke nodded thoughtfully and tapped the place next to her, arching one brow.  
"- A lil' cuddling session before you leave ?  
\- It is not like I could refuse anything to you when you threaten me with your fingers.  
\- _Oh_ ," Clarke began, a smile on her lips as Lexa laid next to her. "my fingers _threaten_ you ?  
\- That is not..."

    Lexa didn't get the chance to finish her sentence because skilled fingers began poking her _everywhere_. They worked their magic on her ribs, stomach and neck. On her sides, above her knees, on the inside of her thighs. Tears prickled at the corner of her eyes, her laughter filling the entire room with a happiness and an insouciance that made Clarke feel everything and nothing at all. She was young and free and bare from any blood. She was weightless, light as a feather. She was a flower that was finally blossoming after a harsh winter, stronger than she has ever been. She was loved and in love. The words never shared by one another but deeply felt in each glance and act.  
    Lexa's laugh settled and they looked at each other. They forgot about duties and titles, about facades and people. They were alone and together, stronger and more fierce than ever.  
     The brunette's head popped up to capture the blonde's lips in a raw kiss that explained much more than words. It was slow and tender, yet craved something both women longed to share to one another but couldn't. Lexa's thumbs caressed the skin of Clarke's hipbones beneath her tank top, and Clarke smiled through the kiss, before pulling away. _I love you, I love you, I love you._

"- That was one hell of a kiss." Clarke whispered, voice deep from feeling too much.  
"- Those fingers of yours are skilled weapons.  
\- I can think of other ways to show you their skills." Lexa blushed and kissed her on the cheek.  
"- We do not have time, I have meetings to attend.  
\- Oh, I can be very quick." She responded, wiggling her eyebrows before laughing. "Anything wrong ?" Lexa's eyes averted elsewhere, clearly not wanting to talk about it. Clarke frowned, worry settling in her entire body. "What is it ?  
\- It is nothing you need to worry about, Klark. Winter is coming in less than two moons, The Hunt must begin." Clarke tilted her head and Lexa sighed. "Weeks before Winter comes, the clans gather their best hunters and The Hunt begins. We kill as many animals as we can for their fur and meat to be stored and equally shared amongst the Coalition. Azgeda is the only clan that does not participate.  
\- What about my people ?" She asks, pulling away from Lexa's lap so she can get up. She imitated her, demanding for the conversation to be held. "They are not a part of the Coalition yet, will you be able to help them ?  
"- I have the freedom to hand out my kills to the people that I choose. Instead of spreading it through the clans, I will give some of my part to your people.  
\- But it may endenger your position and make you appear as weak. I can't let you do that. I'm coming with you so my kills will be sent to my people.  
\- You are _not_ coming.  
\- And why is that ?! I won't let my people weaken your position anymore than they already have !" Lexa did not respond and passed by Clarke to leave the chamber. "I know how to hunt and take care of _myself_ !" This made Lexa abruptly turn around, a look of fury on her face that made Clarke regret her words.  
"- If you do know so well how to take care of yourself, then how come did you not quench your needs?! You use a bow and knives as if you were trained since you were a youngon, yet Ryder brings you back thinner that a leaf, consumed by a fever and a thirst that _you_ caused for your _self_!" She took a threatening step toward Clarke. "Do you comprehend what it was like, witnessing you endure a slow and painful death that you ordered upon your _self_?!  
\- And if _you_ hadn't betrayed _me_ , none of that would have happened !" Tears of despair and anger were running down her cheeks, her face was red from shouting. "But I guess we don't get everything we want, do we?  
\- Do you think it was easy? Choosing my duties over my heart, _again_?! It is not because you committed atrocities forced upon you by the adversity of war, that you are the only one who suffered from its aftermaths !  
\- Oh, _you_ want to talk about aftermaths ?!" She was screaming, her rage keeping her from thinking rationaly. " _You_ , who walked away and left _me_ to deal, - _alone_ , with saving _my_ people, want to talk to _me_ about aftermaths?!  
\- And why do you think, Klark of the Sky People, that I am working for your people to enter _my_ Coalition when you have repeatedly shed the blood of _my_ warriors and bashed out our laws ?" Her voice had been deadly low, almost a whisper compared to their previous shouts.  
"- Oh please, Heda. _Please_ , do enlighten me." Her sarcasm and disrespect was just too much and Lexa responded, shouting at the top of lungs, all training about masks and parades forgotten.  
"- So I do not have to choose between the woman I love and my people, _again_! So I do not have to relive what happened to Costia and to you, _again_ !  
"-I.. Lexa, I din't realize, I -  
\- Indeed. You did not realise that I was suffering because you were so focused on yourself that looking around and understanding that you were not the only person that returned damaged from the war did not even cross your mind. Have you thanked Ryder for all that he has done for you ?" She took her silence for an answer. "You will not come to The Hunt because I cannot both look after you and after my warriors. End of discussion."

    Lexa stormed out of the room. Her body was shaking, her mind reeling with their argument. She was angry against Clarke, against herself and the whole entire Universe. She knew it would come but hadn't expected the truth to be so draining. It ravaged her like too many sleepless nights and too many political meetings. It left her feeling hopeless, with an anger which forbid her from functioning and acting rationaly. She sat on her throne to wait for the ambassadors to arrive and she hoped they would not push her because she was one word away from sending an ambassador flying through the railing.

**

    Clarke applied the salve onto the child's cut and bandaged him. She could feel his stare, the way he'd wince and shiver when her fingers would meet his skin, but she said nothing and finished her work. She pulled away with a smile and handed him a small jar and bandages.

"- Apply this every morning and every night. Come see me if your wound is swollen or an unusual color. Okay ?"

    The boy nodded and scurried away with his medications in hands. It had been a week since Clarke had asked Lexa if she could be taught medicine by Nyko, and both Grounders had agreed.  
     She liked Nyko, liked how quiet he was. His ways of expressing himself were simple : he would grunt, stare and nod. He did not dwell on words, did not ask her questions she wasn't willing to answer. But there was also a peace and a wisdom coming from the man that forced Clarke's mind to shut and wholly focus on the task at hands. It's what kept her sane and calm when faced with the wary and frightened glances patients would send her. It's his understanding eyes that kept Clarke on going back to his place every day.  
    ' She bent over the table and continued on preparing medicines and learning their names. If she could remember and master it all, she may be able to spread that knowledge to her people.  
     And with this desire to be useful again, she noted and sketched every plant, every herb and flower. She wrote down their benefits, the place and conditions they grew in, how they could be applied and used. She documented the flora until her back hurt too much and her fingers were sore from the exercise. She stretched, closed the notebook and was about to stand up when the tent flapped open and she felt her soul connecting with the intruder. She would recognize that feeling anywhere. She stood up and faced the woman with a bow.

"- _Nounplana_.  
"- _Wanheda_." She bowed her head. "Please, follow me."

    Clarke looked at the healer who grunted in return and thus, followed the old women. They walked alongside in silence, being given a wide berth by the citizens of Polis. They passed by warriors and traders whose eyes would wander on the ground when they saw the duo approach. They avoided the never-emptying streets of the citadel and arrived in an area Clarke had never been to. Houses built in the outskirts of Polis so far away the brouhaha of people's chatter and moves could not reach the district. She met a few people, some older than most Grounders she had ever encountered and they _smiled_ at her. They smiled at her with genuine love and care, like she was a child who grew up in the streets of their homeland, a child they knew, a child they treasured.  
     They entered a humble dwelling made of dark woods, the floor was muddy in front if its entrance and Clarke almost tripped but managed to catch herself. She followed the nounplana to the back door and arrived in a garden in which hundreds of different herbs were harvested.

"- _Sin daun_."

    She followed the woman's order and sat on the stool while the nounplana sat on the chair behind her. And without any warning, she proceeded to untangle the blonde's hair with her fingers and hummed a song Clarke had never heard before. It was beautiful, heavy with a serene and a hunting rythm.

"- I can sense your bad dreams when sleep finds you. You need to let them in, my child. They will find their ways into your mind either way for they belong to your past.  
\- How can I not remember them, then ?  
\- It is time you hear about one of your _keyron, youngon kom deimeka._ " She took a hold of hair from Clarke's before continuing. "Over two decades after the Great War, when children were born with abilities gifted by the Gods and Goddess, a small child came onto earth with blue eyes and dark hair. She was known for her beauty, but mostly for her kindness. She traveled amongst villages to aid them, made sure everyone had shelter and food. Ba one day, after coming home from one of her crusade, she found her nontu dead on the ground. Her nomon had killed him, and the tells say that her eyes lost their color and turned a deep grey. That she transformed into a beast made of rage. She killed her without any mercy, and then massacred the entire village." Clarke kept quiet for a few moments before speaking again.  
"- This is not what I want to become." The woman laughed.  
"- My child, you are too pure to turn into a monster.  
\- But I already have..."

    The nounplana laced her braids and forced Clarke to turn around and look at her.

"- You must find balance between your pasts, your presents and your futures. And something tells me that Aleksandria will be by your side to aid you." Clarke smiled and fought against her will not to throw herself into her arms. "Help me pick up some herbs, my back pains me."

**

    Clarke felt calm, relaxed. She was in a bubble of her own that no sounds, except for the murmurs of the forest, could pierce. She pulled back the string, her breathing even and the targets impregnated into her mind. She waited mere seconds to find the confidence she needed and launched the arrow. She didn't wait for the confirmation that it hit its mark for continuing. She pulled the string and shot the arrows one by one. She became one single unit with the arc, eyes of a hawk, fingers having a mind of their own.  
     Clarke put down the bow and took a step back. Out of the seven target, two were outside of the red dot painted on the trees while the other five were stuck in the perfect middle.

"- You have lost precision.  
\- I know, I haven't practiced in a while." Ryder went to retrieve the arrows and put them back into his quiver that was attached to Clarke's shoulder.  
"- Again."

     And so she did as instructed. She went back at it until the two targets she'd missed that were farther away than the other were skilled. And then they went to a different area that was for more difficult but the blonde never faltered, nor did she complain. She forgot about the pain in her arm and in her fingers, and entirely focused on the vicinity surrounding her. There was nothing but the bow and the force with which she controlled the arrow, that mattered. And each time she succeeded - or did not -, on hitting the twenty targets, Ryder would retrieve them and demand of her that she focus.  
     And then, when Ryder din't ask her to try again, Clarke still tried again. Ending this practice session would resort in her going back to the tower and in thinking. And right now, thinking was something she didn't dare to do. So Clarke launched arrows and pierced holes until Ryder walked in front of her and squeezed her shoulders.

"- It is time to go back.  
\- One more." Ryder shook his head and gently retrieved his quiver from her shoulder and took back his weapons.  
"- Do you wish to talk about it ?  
\- No..."

     They marched into the forest in silence. Clarke focused on being as light as possible -she failed, and Ryder remained quiet. It hit her, then. Ryder had always been there. He watched over her and fed her and aided her. He bared her nightmares and her screams. He tended to her wounds, offered her peace and distance, yet handed her tools for her to simply forget and just _be_. He had always been a comfort, a reminder that if she did try to harm herself, he would be there.

"- I haven't thanked you for everything that you've done for me. But I'm thankful. I owe you my life.  
\- I obeyed orders.  
\- We both know your job was to stay in the trees and just watch, yet you provided a help and a guidance that I needed. Thank you for taking care of me and doing more than your orders obliged you to. You kept me alive.  
\- My duties lay beside Heda. I had to make sure that you lived, so that she could." Clarke nodded. "And it is a possibility that I may have grown fond of you.  
\- Just a possibility, of course.  
\- It is also a possibility that I may have insulted you when you were acting like a branwoda.  
\- Once again, just a possibility." She said, and they both shared a smile.

**

    She stood in front of the mirror, her back to it as she tried to take a peek of her shoulder blade. She never saw it, never dared to look into a mirror or the reflection that offered the river. And it was so overwhelmingly real that, for a moment, she forgot how to breathe. She felt the weight of the dead come back, claws digging and digging their ways into her skin to forever mark her wrongs. She could see the Mountain burned into her skin, more clear than she had suspected it to be. She could see the other kill marks surrounding it, yet the Mountain watched over them, formed a pyramid that depicted the spiral that was the ground. Clarke was looking at it, and everything she could see and recall was Death. Death and dead. It was never-ending battles that ended when another began. It was chaos and ferocity, fast and eternal.  
     She sighed, forcing herself to look away, and leave this room and its haunting reflection. She took a fur off of Lexa's mattress and opened the doors of the balcony, enveloped in this warm shelter. She waited and waited and waited. Hours were passing by and the Sun was now long gone. She stared at the moon and wondered if she would come back tonight. Her heart was aching and longing for her warmth and presence, it was yearning and screaming and crying. Clarke tried to remind herself that this was not like the Mountain. That the woman she loved was coming back, that she wasn't walking away and leaving her alone to face the world.  
     She waited and battled against a sleep which yearned to come but Clarke couldn't sleep away the shakiness of her bones. She waited until fog escaped her mouth and created a blurr which mimicked the one in her eyes from tears she fought hard not to shed. She wasn't sure she could keep herself whole if Lexa was walking away again. And this was not healthy. Relying on someone to hold the pieces of your soul together, was not something to be searched. Yet Clarke wouldn't change it for the world.  
     And finally, after too many hours of utter solitude and hopelessness, she heard the doors of the chamber be opened. But the blonde remained sat crossed-leg on the balcony, not trusting her legs to keep her from falling, not trusting her heart to keep her from bursting. More minutes passed by before Lexa sat on the concrete beside Clarke. They said nothing, simply sharing a space that felt too suffocating for the both of them to bear.

"- I thought you'd never come back..." She whispered to Lexa and more moments passed before Lexa spoke.  
"- It is cold, you should go back inside.  
\- No." Clarke shook her head and looked at Lexa. "I need you to listen."

    She turned her back to Aleksandria and inhaled before letting out a ragged breath. She could not escape this, because she too, had things she needed to get off her chest. She let the fur fall off her shoulders and shivers ran down her spine. The light of candles glowed against her not so bare back and Lexa gasped. She gasped and trembled and cried. A river of tears flowed down her cheeks, ravaging her skin like an over-flowed creek after a storm. She rose a shaky hand and began tracing with her fingers Clarke's damaged skin. She traced down the rough edges of her brands, the leftovers of too many wars and too many burdens. The Drop ship, the Bridge, TonDc and the Mountain. They held what should be more than a lifetime of horror and she wished, oh Lexa _wished_ she could hold her and promise her that no more bloodbaths would come. But it would be a lie, and Lexa didn't lie.  
     Clarke draped her shoulders into the fur and turned back to face Polis. She could not bear to see Lexa's face, could not find the courage she needed to witness what was surely painted on the Grounder's face: disgust, disdain. Horror.

"- I shouldn't have yelled at you, nor should I have invalidated your feelings. I know you were hurting too, and I'm sorry I wasn't there for you... But I won't apologize for seeking a peace of mind I thought isolation could offer me. It was a mistake, but a necessary one." She swallowed the lump in her throat and breathed in. "After two or three weeks of wandering, we crossed a village and a woman that referred to me as Wanheda. It was the first time I heard someone use this title. She offered Ryder and I food and a bed, and when morning came, she offered me a knife that I've kept with me ever since. A day later, Ryder carried me back to the village to tend to my back and that's when she told me about brands. I don't regret taking mine." Her gaze fell on her knees. "I'm sorry I hurt you by not taking care of myself, but I don't regret it. Those days remind me that I've drowned and come back. They force me to get out of bed when I feel like the entire Universe has dropped onto my shoulders, because I don't, _ever_ , want to go back to that place." She turned her upper body towards Lexa to look at her. "I won't come to The Hunt with you, but I think it's time for me to go back to my people and be the leader they need me to be."

    She awaited an answer that didn't come, and she craved nothing more than to erase this morning and go back to hearing Lexa's laughter fill the room. But the woman sitting before her was less Lexa and more Heda. Her jaw was locked and her eyes were cold. She was far away, had slipped back into the comfort of locking herself down.  
    Clarke stood up and walked into the room. She gently laid down the furr onto the bed, took one of Lexa's pillow and didn't bother to put back her shirt to hide her bra and shoulder before leaving. It's only when the door closed that she heard Lexa's sobs rocketing through the room.

**

     Lexa couldn't sleep. She'd turned and shifted and twisted until she'd finally gave up and stared at the blank ceiling of her bedroom. Her cheeks were raw, eyes red and burning from too many tears. Her rib cage felt heavier with each breath she took, a weight added onto her bones that crashed and crushed her.  
    It couldn't end like that. She wouldn't let it. Yet who was she to demand of Clarke to choose between her and her people, when she had done exactly the same months ago. It was torturing her. Clarke was so close yet so far away Lexa didn't know if she could come back. But she had to try, right ?  
      Lexa got up and left her chambers. She needed to see Clarke, needed to make sure she was still there, alive and present. The guards in font of Clarke's chamber bowed low and focused on the wall in front of them. She wanted to knock but she lacked courage and hope. In the solitude of the night, she was not the Commander but a girl whose heart was thundering in her chest. Broke and tormented. She was trying to find some courage to reach out when the door opened to reveal a Clarke that looked exactly like her: a mess.  
      They stood in front of one another like it was the first and the last time they saw each other. They were stunned by heartbreak and despair, stuck in a situation they hoped to come out of, yet didn't know how to manage that accomplishment. Clarke was the one to break this never-ending, always-stretching silence.

"- Take a walk with me ?"

    Lexa nodded and they began their journey to a place that was unknown to the both of them. They walked amidst the empty streets, neither acknowledging the guards and the drunk they passed by. They stopped walking when they arrived to a bench in the outskirt of the citadel. They were in the middle of a clearing, far away from any noise, disruptance and judgment.  
    Clarke brought her knees to her chest and stared at the moon.

"- When I think about my life up in the sky, all I can recall is grey, and cold. And then I think about my life on the ground, and it's tainted with Death and blood, yet all I can see is an ocean of green. It's hope, life... It's you.  
\- I will not ask of you to choose between your people and me." Lexa whispered.  
"- You don't have to." Clarke turned around to face Lexa and entwined her fingers with hers. Green eyes met blue, two equal opposites, complementing and complimenting. "I love you, Leksa kom Trikru. And I don't have to choose one over another because I choose both. Love isn't weakness, Lexa." She pleaded. "It's strength and courage. It's what kept me alive and fighting. It's my love for you and for my people that forces me to go back to Arkadia..." She cupped Lexa's cheek with one hand and caressed her thumb across her single tear. "I'm not choosing, Lexa, I accept and embrace both."

    The kiss that followed was sloppy, damp flesh against warm one. It was messy and needy, tore their soul apart and reunited each pieces until they formed one unique being. It overflowed with ache and promises and love, so much love. Lexa's thumbs traced the skin of her hipbones and Clarke moaned. She pulled Lexa towards her and sat on her laps. She craved a contact she was prevented from for too many hours, craved a reassurance she needed to master the demons waiting for her in Arkadia. She felt Lexa's hands run up her back until firm hands pushed her against her torso, always needing more touch, more skin, more warmth.  
     The kiss slowed to down to a stop and they pressed their forehead together. They breathed in the smell of pine flower and of salty tears, they breathed until their heart regained a steady rhythm and their eyes emptied themselves.

"- I am weak, Clarke.  
\- I know."  
  
**

     They were leaving Polis to undertake the two days ride to arrive to Arkadia. Clarke had had the previous day to sort out her things, which was to come back with a cart full of old-world technology, fur, dried meat of different flavors, toothpaste and soap. Coming back with such goods would attest of how beneficial the Coalition would be to them, and maybe of how beneficial Clarke could be to them. Clarke was enveloped in the imposing coat Lexa had offered her. Black furr was on its inside, the leather on the outside was keeping her warmth in. A large metalic buckle outlined her waist and many blades were hidden. On her back was attached one of most beautiful sword she had ever seen, it paired with the knife Yiva had gifted to her. The handle of the sword was lined with gold and red roses were sewn in the leather. On the blade was written _"Kom folau, oso na gyon." From the ashes we will rise..._  
     They traveled during the first day with twenty-eight hunters. Lexa remained at her side every hour of the day but neither of them talked to each other. They were hurting, bleeding for an ache that came only with love: incertitude. They made promises they didn't know how to keep, promises of a future that will involve the both of them, together. Yet, the more they marched, the more Clarke felt like she was slipping away from herself and becoming the leader she once was, but stronger, fiercer. She was turning into a guarded shell which could not be broken into by anyone.  
     And so did Lexa.  
     On the second day, they left camp together with four guards. Ryder and Roni were by her sides. They were to protect her with their life. They were to remind Clarke of who she was and make sure she would not lose herself. They were to obey Clarke, unless her orders would go against The Commander's.  
    The group rode during the entire day, stopping twice to eat and drink and for Clarke to pick up a plant that was an elevated version of marijuana. _For Monty and Jasper_ , she'd thought. And then, when the sun withdrew and left them in the dark, they still kept on riding. They rode in complete silence, alone with their thoughts and fears. Lexa refused to let the tears she was holding in stream down her face. She focused on everything and nothing. She focused on duties and laws, on the moon and the stars. She forced herself to swallow the lump in her throat, to become what she and her people needed her to be: a leader.  
     Clarke gestured for everyone to stop. They were here, they had reached their final destination at dawn. The sun was rising behind a horde of grey clouds. They birds were singing, welcoming her home or preventing her from going further: she did not know. She looked at Lexa, the last image she would see of the woman she loved before they would reunite again - if they did. Lexa extended her left arm to Clarke. They embraced on last time, their forehead glued to one another and their hand grasping each other forearm. Lexa whispered.

"- May we meet again.  
\- We will."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Em laik gada: It's a girl.  
> Nounplana: Wise woman.  
> Sin daun: Sit down.  
> keyron: soul  
> youngon kom deimeika: child of the sun.
> 
> SO, that was one hell of a chapter... The fight was intense, to say the least. I began writting chapter nine while I was writing this one, so there's that. Oh, and I would really like to be able to discuss with you about chapters and queerbating and rant about how the fuck there is not enough lgbtq+ representation in litterature (because I do it alone and sometimes I feel like i'm going to explode.) But I don't want to create a twitter so, I don't know what to do.  
> Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter and that your summer vacation is going well. Drink water, kids !


	9. Arkadia pt.1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raven and Clarke are my brotp. Octavia's a bitch because she's hurt and has too much pride. I love Roni soo much and Clarke is being thick.

    Here stood the gate of Arkadia, like the entrance of some place one could not escape. It was grey and big and contained too many people whose way of handling things was through death, who wished nothing more than to alienate themselves further while reigning on a new world that did not belong to them. It was rusty and patched up, yet so big Clarke felt like a vulnerable intruder coming into an enemy territory she wasn't sure she could elude untouched. Shouts began to erupt from the gate as Wanheda stood jaw tight and shoulders held back. Her head was high, her eyes cold, demanding a respect she wouldn't back away from. But yet, as she focused on her vicinity, she remembered herself she could not only be a title, but also a person.

"- Who are you?!" Her eyes looked up to the anxious man, holding his stare with such intensity he started to shake before she answered.  
"- Clarke."  
  
     Shouts erupted again and Wanheda had to refrain herself from groaning. This place was just so loud, without any purposeful and silent conversations and she couldn't help but shake her head. But then the gate opened to a screaming mother and Clarke kept her mask on as she slipped off her horse, and was enveloped in a strong embrace. She won't break today. Clarke needed to be mentally out of the camp and if it required being more Wanheda than Clarke, she would be Wanheda, then Clarke.

"-My baby, you're alive!"

    Her arms remained on the side of her body, not daring to hold her mother close because being hugged by someone other than Lexa, the only person she allowed to be physically close to her, burned her skin and could engender a panic attack she didn't want to have in front of the whole camp and in front of her guards. So she locked herself further away even, until the threat no longer felt like a threat but a necessity she had to commit to.  
     Abby placed her hands on each side of Clarke's face, feeling her, impregnating her face into her mind to reassure her that this wasn't another hallucination, that this wasn't another twisted. She began to hurl sweet words that pulled at Clarke's mask and it was time she broke away from this situation. She forced her arms into her mother's extended ones and pushed them away in a circular motion.

"- I'm okay."

    The gesture seemed to wake Abby and she took a step back, glaring daggers into Roni and Ryder who stood close behind her. Clarke could feel it then, the deep-running hatred her mother had harvested during her five months away. She could see the way Abby's nostrils would flare and the way her breathing would fasten.

"- What are those sava-  
\- Stop!" Clarke commanded, she'd shift from her position and was hovering her mother. "I have _just_ arrived and you are _not_ going to make a scene in front of _everyone_ and disrespect the people who saved me from _myself_."

    Abby looked down and stepped aside, just in time to see Kane marching towards her with a smile on his face. Clarke gave him a small, genuine nod before masking her feelings again.  
     As the Chancellor walked, she looked over to the hundred of people forming a hoard. They were studying her with curious looks, amazement and distrust. They didn't understand why she was standing over there, and Clarke, for a moment, forgot too. _I'm here to feed them and make sure they survive the winter. It's the only reason I returned._ Clarke stood out her arm for Kane to shake in a grounder manner, and he did. She was more happy to see the man who contributed to the abusive state of mind of the Delinquents, than she was of seeing her mother. Seeing a glimpse of her pulled out memories of her father being executed because of her, of herself crying and screaming into her mother's arms after Jake disappeared into space, of herself being locked up and resenting Wells.

"- We've missed you, Clarke.  
\- I know...  
\- Come, many people will want to see you."

    She nodded and mounted her horse, Roni and Ryder doing the same thing. They walked into this camp that held so many ghosts and so much blood, into this camp that came from space and proclaimed this land as their own. She could feel the Grounders beside her getting anxious the more and more they walked and Clarke couldn't even reassure them because she felt anxious too. The Ark didn't feel like home anymore, not like a place she knew she could get back to to mend her soul. Its people didn't feel like home either, and Clarke thought about her new home who was now riding through woods, making sure her people would be able to eat when winter came.  
     They stopped mid-camp, in front of the metal cage and amidst burning fires and houses being built. Everything had changed. Everything was changing, but the camp still felt grey and lifeless, a prison in a place that screamed freedom. They dismounted and let a Grounder take their horse. It still felt weird to see some in this crowd but she had to remind herself that Lexa and Kane were trying to mingle their people together. It seemed to work. She instructed Roni and Ryder to set up their tent and watched them leave.  
She was about to turn around when strong arms and a heavy weight clung to her back. And all of a sudden, it became too much. She gripped the hands around her neck, and bend in a swift motion so that the weight would go forward. Everything was red and she so craved to get the tension out of her body. She needed the release, needed to pull all her nerves into fighting.

"- Clarke, it's Raven !"

    She stopped dead, unable to move, unable to breathe. The mechanic hopped off her back and went to face Clarke, a huge grin but nonetheless worrying eyes on her face as she took her sister in. She was alive and well and Raven felt like nothing could get better. She felt her fears slowly slipping away because if Clarke was here, then everything would be okay. Then everything _was_ okay, then _she_ will be okay. She hugged the blonde tightly and for the first time since Clarke came back, she held Raven back against her with such strength the brown-haired woman had a hard time breathing. None of them cared.

"- I've missed you."

    It was the first four words Clarke had said since she stood at the gate that were true. She'd missed Raven like she'd missed Wells, but the woman was a part of her family that was still alive. A sister she'd grown to love and admire and take care of.

"- I've brought you a little something." She said with a sly grin and went to pull back the cover from the chart.  
"- Holy fuck, you bitch ! I didn't think you would bring all that !  
\- I'm sure the Commander would gladly take them back.  
\- Don't you dare !" Clarke smiled and turned around to speak to Kane who was looking over the cart.  
"- Could we talk ?  
\- Later. Not everyone from the council has come back.  
\- Who's on the council now ?  
\- Raven, Bellamy, Octavia, Lincoln and Monty. They are on guard duty now, they should come back in less than an hour.  
\- Okay. Put the cart away, we'll talk about it later. I'll go back to my guards."

    The walk back to the gate of Arkadia felt never-ending, as if each stares added one more minute to her walk. There was a small, tiny part of her that relished in seeing her family again, it hit her with a wave of relief every time she would see a familiar face that was alive, and not covered in blood. And then some would smile at her and she'd be on the verge of tears.  
     But unfortunately, there was this unwavering anxiety that consumed her like a never-ending fire. It transformed every move, every breath in something threatening, made her feel like her life was on the line, that everything she was or would be doing would never be enough. She wanted to run far away from this camp that consoled, yet tormented her. She wanted miles and miles of land to separate her from this doomed place, but she _knew_ she couldn't be selfish again. So Clarke headed to the clearing outside of Arkadia where three tents were postioned in a circle. The fire was already lit and the tents already full. She went to her tent and took out the sheath securing her sword before taking out each one of every blade hidden in the coat Lexa had gifted to her.  
    It seemed like a mortal ritual, like the preparing of a ceremony that involved Life and Death, and as Clarke laid each blade on the table, straight and five inches separating each one, she could feel odd memories of a past life she did not dare to acknowledge yet, come back. She could smell the hint of thirst, the air changing and her surroundings transforming.  
     She looked down to hands that were not her own, to long braids made of black, silky hair, looked up and saw the walls of a barrack instead of a tent. It was dim, a fire and four candles lighting up the single room but instead of clean, untouched daggers were blades drowning in blood, still warm from the flesh they tore into. And then she heard the muffled scream that always pulled her away from this memory, this cry of pain and desperation that stirred something deep within her soul. She shook her head and stepped back from the table. It could not happen now, not now that she was surrounded by people she loved and wished to take care of.  
     Clarke took off her coat and carefully placed it on her bed before taking off some piece of clothing to allow her to move more freely and placed back the sheath of her swords between her shoulder blades. She went to find Ryder who was letting the twigs in his arms fall in the fire.

"- Can we spare ?"

    He nodded and they walked outside of their little camp until they were almost in the middle of the clearing.  
     It begun slow, each movement forming a deadly dance, a waltz no one would dare step into. The clank of silver swords ringed in the space like a heavy rhythm, setting an atmosphere which forced Clarke's nerves to settle for a moment. It looked like Death and Life were battling for dominance, twirling and twisting and shifting into entities that were above human nature. They fought for Clarke and they fought for her spirits and they fought for her Fate. But Fate is unpredictable. It is capricious and unforeseeable, it destroys and mends and destroys again.  
     Somewhere along the sparing, Clarke had taken off her shirt to be left in her binding. Shoulders and scars showing off like a reminder of who she was, forcing everyone and everything to see and remember what she was capable of. And somewhere along the sparing, the notion of sparing itself got lost for Clarke and each strike freed fury and frustrations. And all of a sudden, her elbow landed against his jaw and her foot kicked his wrist. Ryder was bare from any weapon, looking at the beast he'd helped unleashed. Wanheda was smirking. She threw her swords away and waited for the warrior to attack her, which he did not until Wanheda feigned an opening. She let him land his fist on her face, blood came out of her nose and she smirked again. Every part of her body then connected with his body. It was a mess of punches and kicks, it was blood and survival and primary instincts. Her foot landed on his rib cage so hard air was knocked out of his lungs but she kept on charging forward with her feet until Ryder and herself were a bloody mess. The cry she'd heard previously ringed in her ears and suppressed the metallic taste in her mouth. It ravaged her and stirred an ache that had Wanheda about to finish Ryder before she heard a twig snap. She extracted the knife in her boot, twisted her upper body so her back wasn't directed at the intruded and hurled it.  
     Clarke looked like a beast, hair messy and nostrils flaring. The knife landed on the closest tree, beside four horses mounted by people she knew very well. She swallowed. Hard. Being in this place that made her feel so vulnerable and raw allowed her rage to take control. She hadn't lost control for a few weeks now, and Clarke cursed herself for losing focus when circled with people who didn't know who she was anymore. Now was not the time to begin a freak show in front of an audience that wasn't accustomed to her presence.  
     She extended her hand to Ryder who took it with a huge smile and they went to Roni's tent to seek medical help.

**

    She was grinding her teeth as she walked, mask back on. Her ribs and many other parts of her body were bruised but nothing was broken. Each step pained her and she mentally thanked Ryder because her physical pain erased her mental one. But she kept on walking with her head high and shoulders drawn backward as she approached the council room with Ryder and Roni by her sides. The guards placed in front of the door nodded and let her in.  
     It was quiet, but loud with a silence that spoke too much. Clarke sat down at the end of the table, her guards stepping back in the shadows. To her left was Raven who sat beside Octavia. Lincoln sat between his lover and the Chancellor, who's left seat was occupied with Monty and then Bellamy. She couldn't cross his stare. She could feel Bellamy's eyes burning holes through the side of her face, longing to ask questions Clarke wasn't sure she wanted to answer. But she owed it to them to make the first step. Her eyes met Marcus' and she nodded in his direction.

"- I've called an urgent meeting because Clarke has returned and I'm sure there are many issues that will need to be addressed.  
\- Yeah, for example where the _fuck_ have you been all these months." Octavia spat, a look of fury in her eyes but the Commander didn't flinch.  
"- After Mount Weather, I couldn't face my people and chose to leave because I didn't wish my burden to fall upon your shoulders. I ended up in Polis, where Heda looked after me and allowed me to start a life.  
\- Then if you had a _life_ , why did you come back?" The Commander of Death looked at Octavia, grinding her teeth to calm her anger.  
\- The Hunt has begun, and because you aren't part of the coalition yet, Heda won't be able to give you enough food and goods that will allow you to survive the season. You still use guns and you haven't taken the time to learn how to properly hunt. I want to make sure you survive our first winter.  
\- And so what, _princess_? You just walk in here like the savior that you are and plan on playing the good Samaritan ?" Ryder growled. "We don't need you. We were doing just fine without you here.  
\- You will not disrespect Wanheda." Ryder growled, a hand on his sword, three steps closer to Clarke.  
"- _Step of, Ryder_.  
\- Oh you have a new title now." Octavia laughed. " ' _Commaaander of **Death'**_ , that name suits you well, doesn't it ? Everywhere you go Death follows. Is that why you're here ?" She tilted her head. "To kill us all?"

    It happened in an instant. A few moments ago Roni was standing behind Wanheda, and then she was pining Octavia against a wall, a knife pressed harshly against her throat. She'd thought the room would implode in shouts and fights, but the room turned deadly silent as some looked at Octavia and others at her. Clarke could feel their stares begging her to do something but she kept quiet, eyes boring into Octavia's.

"- If you threaten, disrespect or harm Wanheda again, I will have you tie up to a tree and scream for treason. Wanheda is under Heda's protection, if any harm comes to her, Heda will call for your head."

    The words sank in everyone's mind and no one dared to move. They knew that it would take one move for everything to turn into a bloodshed. Clarke swallowed down.

"- _Ste daun, Roni._ " She waited for Octavia to sit down again and for Roni to stand to her right, but she remained beside the girl. Ready to act. "Is there anything anyone wants to add ?"

     The room remained quiet and Clarke waited for everyone to clear the room except for Marcus. And then she looked at him.  
     Marcus had changed. Winkles were digging his skin, tints of black and purple were lining his under eyes, and the weight he'd gained when arriving on the ground had melted away. The consequences of leadership and winter were already affecting his body, and Clarke sighed. She didn't wish for someone else to bear the burdens that she had, but she knew she couldn't step back in. She didn't even know if she wanted to.

"- They will come around, Clarke.  
\- I know.  
\- But things are no longer the same. I'm glad you're home, Clarke, but you're no longer a leader here. I'm the Chancellor, and you're just a citizen now.  
\- I understand, but that won't stop me from aiding my people." Marcus sighed and got up.  
"- You should go see your mother."

    But seeing her mother wasn't something that was on Clarke's mind. She'd thought, just a tiny little bit, that over her months of disappearance, Abby would have changed. That she would have acclimated herself to the Grounders and their culture, that she would have _tried_ to be the bigger person and put her worries and opinions aside for the good of the Skaikrus and of Clarke's. But then she called grounders 'savages' and looked at them like they were the worst creatures on Planet Earth.  
     During the travel from Polis to Arkadia, Clarke had wondered what it would be like seeing her mother again. She'd hoped her heart would burst and her hard feelings for her would disappear, but the things is, Clarke had changed too much. Forgiveness wasn't something she was willing to hand out anymore, and she had a family that didn't only consist of her mother. She wasn't alone anymore, and the death of her father and Wells remained too fresh in her mind for her to forgive. _Maybe someday._

"- Clarke!" She stopped and turned around to see Raven trotting towards her. "Lunch's gonna be served, come.  
\- I don't know if I want to...  
\- Yeah, it was one hell of a meeting... You have to forgive Octavia though, she's been through a lot.  
\- We all have, yet you don't see me screaming and throwing glares at her for everything she's said and done that were wrong.  
\- I know..." Raven sighed and put a hand around Clarke's shoulder with a smile.

    They walked back into the metal cage in silence. Raven explained to her that since the temperatures had dropped, they were no longer eating outside. The place was usually loud and was used as a hall when things had to be discussed or told. It was a way of keeping the people involved and secured in the fact that they were controlling their own life. It was a lie, but it kept the people from starting an uprising. She nodded to herself and took in the many tables and benches that were full. Everyone had to line up in a queue and wait until they arrived in front of the persons in charge of the canteen for the day. Clarke took special care into not crossing someone's eyes. She focused on the wall behind Raven and tried hard not to give any attention to the many whispers. And it was working. Until someone stumbled against her and the cafeteria turned deadly silence.

"- Sorry. Too much moonshine." He mumbled before looking up. "Clarke." He spat her name like venom was dripping from this simple word.  
"- Jasper." She nodded and looked back at the wall.  
"- What are you doing here?" He hissed.  
"- It's my home, why wouldn't I be here?  
\- You've no right coming here!  
\- Jasper, you're drunk and you're making a scene in front everyone." Raven intervened.  
"- Because you don't think what happened in the Mountain doesn't deserve a scene?!" He turned towards Clarke again and roughly poked her chest with his index. "You slaughtered everyone!  
\- We were in war." she spoke loud enough for everyone to ear. "People die in war, Jasper. There was no other choice, I had to save my people. You all come first.  
\- And you're okay with that now? Killing people?!  
\- Don't you think for one second that I don't feel each death that I've caused," she stepped into his personal space, "but I won't apologize for saving my people in the wake of killing another."

    Their nose were brushing. She could feel his ragged breath against her skin, but she did not back down. She couldn't apologize any more than she already had. For each pyre they had inflamed with Ryder, she'd broke down to tears and whispered sincere apologies to their soul. And she kept one doing so every night until Lexa brought her peace. And _of course_ she still felt each death upon her shoulders, still saw or smelled them in her nightmares. Nevertheless, her people were alive because of her actions. Arkadia was prospering and some women were even pregnant now. They were creating innocent lives, believing in a future in which their children could be protected. None of that could have happened if Mount Weather and its people were still standing.  
     From the corner of her eyes she remarked Monty approaching them. She slowly and deliberately blinked and nodded at him when he took Jasper away, and waited mere moments before mumbling to Raven that she wasn't hungry. She left camp without a word.

**

    She felt like an intruder. As if she was stepping into some place she didn't belong to. She hoped this feeling would eventually go away with time, she didn't think she could remain in Arkadia feeling like shit again. Perhaps coming back was a bad idea, perhaps she'd become more of a burden for her people than anything else. Perhaps Octavia was right. Once again.  
     Raven sat down next to her and pushed her shoulder against Clarke's.

"- I can feel you mopping all the way back from camp.  
\- I'm not _mopping_.  
\- Whatever you say, princess." A brief silence settled over the two of them before Clarke frowned.  
"- How did you find me, by the way?  
\- I threatened your guards to make everything go boom if they didn't tell me where you were." Clarke choked on her own saliva.  
"- You _what_?!  
\- Relax, princess." She straightened up, faked being out of breath and furrowed her brows. " ' _There is an urgent matter I need to discuss with Clarke. It cannot wait.' And tadaaaam, here I am._ " Clarke snorted and let her eyes wander in front of the large stream.  
"- I'm sorry you were alone all these months..." Raven breathed in deep.  
\- We all needed time to process what happened. At Mount Weather and before that. I'm not saying you did the best thing by leaving, but... I think it was better for you than staying here."

    They remained in the forest, in front of the large creek for a few hours, talking to each other with heavy sarcasm and dramatic sighs while Clarke massaged Raven's leg. It took a good amount of convincing for Raven to let her do so, but she knew she was grateful. Abby had apparently lessened her work, too deep in her rage and sorrow to move past it. Clarke scowled at that. _You don't get to run away from your professional oath. You swear to save lives until you can no longer do so. But Abby killed Jake, so was she really the doctor Clarke once thought she was?_ Seeing how tense the subject was, Raven had quickly changed the subject to talk about Roni and how ' _fucking hot_ ' the Grounder is.

"- No but seriously, have you seen her biceps?! She could pin me against a wall with no effort!  
\- For your safety" Clarke fought a smile. "I would really stop talking about Roni like _that_. You know she can hear you.  
\- Maybe that's my plan." Raven exaggeratedly wiggled her brows and they laughed until the brim of tears and the anxiety built up in their stomach was gone. "Fuck, I missed your pig laughter.  
\- What are you talking about? My laughter is melody to everyone's ears!  
\- It is not." They both jumped at Roni's sudden input and the mechanic snorted.  
"- Told ya, Clarkey." Roni hid a smirk. Clarke shot both of them a glare.  
"- We must leave."

    Clarke frowned at Roni's tone but said nothing. Raven put her braces back on and Clarke stood up way to rapidly for her not to feel every muscle of her body screaming. She's going to be sore tomorrow morning from too much horse riding and bruises from the sparring session. She grimaced but lead the way with the mechanic by her sides and the Grounder behind them in utter silence. They parted ways in front of the gates of Arkadia, her friend holding her tightly like Clarke would disappear again if she turned her back to her. She tried not to focus on that too much.  
     Clarke sat down onto her bed and ate some dried meats that were laid onto a rag and placed onto her mattress. Roni began to massage her sore muscles and scowled at Clarke when she tried to wiggle out of her hands.

"- Come oon, I'm sure you have other things to take care of than my sore muscles." Roni frowned and locked eyes with Clarke.  
"- You are not a burden, Clarke.  
\- Then why does it feel like I am." She whispered, low enough that she hoped Roni didn't hear her. But then she was rewarded with Roni applying more pressure on a sour point.  
"- You have not escaped the darkness of your mind months ago to go back to that place in only a few hours. As your friend said, you are... _mopping_." Clarke snorted and smirked.  
"- Strong biceps, huh? Ouch! Why did you do that?" She hissed and suppressed a laugh when she saw her... _blushing_?! "Are you blu- Ouch, Roni! Fuck, I'm just teasing!  
\- It is funny, I do not remember teasing you for the love bite Heda left you."

    Everything was a blur after that. She gasped and jolted, eyes wide and cheeks furiously red. Her head hit the wooden frame of the bed and she rolled over, groaning in pain and shame as she hit the fucking floor. And _of course_ she had to land on her butt and hit the other side of her head on the fucking bedside table. _Who even brings a bedside table in a tent?!_ She heard a strangled sound before Roni exploded. She laughed with her arms hugging her stomach, not even handing a hand for Clarke to get back, even though she was struggling to get back off her arse. She mumbled some really creative swear words before looking up at her friend.

"- Perhaps I should do it more often. It is indeed funny."

    Clarke stormed out of her tent, her hands massaging her butt cheeks.

**

     Night was falling. They were eating their last pieces of dried meat that were in their luggage. It would be sufficient for the three of them, but they will have to go hunting tomorrow. She hoped they would bring enough meat for the Arkers to realize she could be useful, yet Clarke dreaded killing again.  
     She remembered her first and only kill like it was yesterday. She'd shot with Ryder's bow, aimed at a small, fluffy and _alive_ rabbit that was minding its own business. But the kill wasn't painless as she didn't hit a vital point. She hadn't known a rabbit could scream until this point.  
     But she's ready now. She had to be.  
     Roni was watching somewhere in a tree - Clarke knew exactly where, but she's got _pride_ , you know- and Ryder left to sleep in his quarter. She had tried to sleep before eating, but the nightmares would come back. They were of the Ark, of the Ground, of... Klarissa. It didn't make any sense but Clarke still whimpered in her sleep until it grew louder and a loud whistle woke her up. It didn't matter now, she should go back to her tent and reach Lexa via radio, like they had promised each other. _'Every night, when night falls and the moon is high, I will be thinking of you and waiting for your voice.'_  
     She went to her tent and grabbed the radio she placed in a hidden pocket of the tarpaulin and laid down onto her bed, her feet dangling off the edge.  
     She missed Lexa already and it scared her to no end. How could she miss someone she was with less than twenty-four hours ago ?  
     But deep down, she knew that _that_ was a lie. She missed Lexa even when in Polis, even when the girl was standing right in front of her. She'd been missing her since the fight. But they sorted it out... well Clarke sorted it out and did the talking while Lexa kept silent. And it's not of importance because they are okay and they love each other. _We said it to one another... Right?_  
     She hid back the radio and left her tent in a hurry.

**

"- Klark, are you there ?"

**

    She spotted wild, red hair halfway between her tent and the fire. She brought her hand over to the knife of her hips before squinting her eyes. She sighed, let go of the weapon, and crossed the remaining steps. Clarke sat down next to her, face turned towards the fire.

"- Nightmares again?" The girl nodded and played with the stick between her fingers. "Why don't you go to the others? You're not alone, Monroe. You never have been.  
\- I know, it's just... I can't get myself to ask the other if I can sleep with them.  
\- What about Bellamy? Raven?  
\- After you left, they stopped sleeping for a while." Clarke nodded and let Monroe's words sink in. Could she really understand the reach of the consequences to her departure?  
"- I can't sleep alone either..." Clarke murmured and Monroe snapped her head up, her eyes almost full of reconnaissance. "Sleep with me?"

    It felt... odd, sleeping with someone else other than Lexa. But it also felt warm, and familiar, past memories of nights spent with Monroe against her front, soothing her back to sleep. After the tragedy of Charlotte and Wells, the Delinquents, and especially Clarke, had taken great care in the mental health of the youngs. And Monroe had been, and still was, one of them.  
     Thus the blonde tightened her hold against Monroe to keep her from moving, because if her bad dreams are anything like they once were, the girl will need to be held. Nevertheless, during the night Monroe woke up and held onto Clarke while she lulled her back to sleep with sweet swords and reminders that the blonde was okay and alive.

  
**

   Clarke woke up to a warm body pressed onto her back, her arms and legs were held to her body in a strong embrace. It took a few seconds to recall the events of last night and relax into Monroe's warmth. She sighed and slowly dismantled herself from the girl to get ready. She left a note on the table and exited her quarters to find Roni and Ryder already waiting for her, the sun rising in the distance. They ate the small honey cakes they had brought from the capital in silence and when they were done, Clarke slid the quiver and the bow Ryder was handing to her before she turned around to leave with him. Roni stopped her by placing herself in her way and by clasping Clarke's shoulders.

"- Hunt with your eyes open and your ears trained. There is much danger into the woods.  
\- I'll be careful, Roni." The Grounder didn't seem to believe her words but said nothing as she stepped away. They clasped each other's front-arm and Roni made a gesture to lay their forehead together. It's a part of the grounder hand-shake reserved to family and loved-ones, so it's only normal that Clarke would meet her halfway. That's what they are to each other: family.  
\- I apologize if I offended you yesterday, Klark kom Skaikru." She stepped back.  
"- No, it's me who should apologize. I reacted like a child." She smirked before adding. "You're really good at teasing people, maybe you should practice that with Raven?" She winked and left with a whimper before Roni could respond.

     The blonde tried to be silent as she marched into the woods, and really thought it was working until she stepped on a branch and Ryder threw her a glare. _Oops_.  
     She wasn't comfortable, being in the woods, with Ryder, again. She would see familiar trees and places she thought she'd stopped by to gather herself, and the lump in her throat would return. She could feel a weight onto her chest that spread through her stomach. The well-known feeling of anxiety she hated and resented with so much passion. Her resolve faltered and she wondered if she could actually succeed in this quest of reconquering her people's belief in her. Maybe it was -  
     Ryder grabbed her arm and took her with him as she crouched down. He placed his index against his mouth, and gestured with two fingers to his eyes and then in front of them. She looked around until she spotted a dear amidst the trees. The creature was unaware of their presence, looking at the grass with much interest. The warrior looked at her bow and then at Clarke. She'd be the one killing it. The blonde closed her eyes and breathed in deep. She will succeed. When she opened them again, her face looked like stone and her eyes were hard. She _will_ succeed.  
     Clarke carefully seized her bow and an arrow in a quietness that spoke many things of who she was in this moment. She armed her bow and breathed in, her stare fixed onto the beast. She shot when it looked in her direction.  
     The animal fell down with a thud, the arrow stuck in the side of its neck. Its abdomen was barely rising, which made Clarke stand up to put him out of misery. She fell to her knees, laid her front just beside the beast neck, a hand on the arrow. She closed her eyes and whispered to its ear.

"- _You gonplei ste odon._ " She took out the arrow, and the animal's body slumped underneath her own.

    She repeated this gesture every time a living creature would fall by her hands.

**

    A deer, two rabbits and two mutated ones, one chicken and two giant, enormous -" _these are small ones, Wanheda"_ \- birds later, Clarke's muscles breath was shallow from the effort. They had to go back to Arkadia to bring their kills and clean them for the feast it would engender, but they wandered off closer to TonDC than to Arkadia. Ryder stayed in the woods to fend off any predators from their kills, while Clarke marched to TonDC.  
     She was surprised, really. TonDC seemed even greater than before the bomb. Trunks carved into pikes were surrounding its land, outposts for archers were mounted behind the fence, high enough to see above the forest and perhaps high enough to see Arkadia from afar. Without knowing it, Clarke stood straighter and locked her jaw. She marched to the entrance and asked for Indra to one of the two warriors that stood watch, and thrived from the wait by stepping ahead and looking around.  
   The outer portion of the city wasn't the only thing that improved. The houses and trades spots were sturdier, bigger and seemed to allow a comfort that wasn't there before. A large building was built in its center, a stable was connected to its right side. The building was two storeys-high. It was made in dark woods with a front porch that had Clarke frown. _What **is** it?_

"- Sky girl.  
\- Indra." Clarke smiled at her. "TonDC is great.  
\- It turned out your people were not the branwodas I thought they were." Clarke rolled her eyes.  
"- Ryder and I went hunting at dawn, but we need a cart to take our kills back to Arkadia. Could you land us one? We'll give you some meat.  
\- We do not need your meat, Sky girl." She turned around and commanded the guards to bring back a cart and a horse. "Wait here. I do not want to see Tondisi destroyed by your hands once again.  
\- _Sha_. Oh, Indra?" The Grounder turned around and lifted an eyebrow. "There will be a feast, tonight. You're welcome to join us."

**

     A few meters away from the camp, hidden by the trees, Ryder helped Clarke put the dear onto her shoulder. Its head was hanging against her chest, its legs painfully digging into her skin as she almost crumbled from the weight of this " _fucking heavy deer_ " that apparently was " _an average one_ ". The beast could have stayed loaded into the cart, but Clarke understood the importance of impression. Ryder had smeared blood onto her cheeks and forehead, and Clarke only dreaded the gasps and the looks her appearance would provoke. They walked the remaining few meters separating them from Arkadia, Clarke kept her face and emotions guarded but gritted her teeth.  
     The gates were opened.  
     And everyone stilled.  
     She could feel the stares on her face, on her body, on the deer ; could hear the gasps of astonishment and wonder, of awe and respect. Clarke marched until the center of the camp, let the deer fall off her shoulder in a slump and stood on the picnic table next to her.

"- Tonight, we will feast for the beginning of Winter and for the beginning of The Hunt; for this new season we have yet to live and experience. This is a new time, a new beginning for us to prosper and grow more familiar with the Earth and its inhabitants. Tonight we will feast and enjoy this freedom we have always longed for. We will feast and bond with the Grounders over Jasper and Monty's famous moonshine," Laughs echoed. "over the food that is so abundant in our camp thanks to the Commander's willingness and her dedicated people." Clarke stepped off the table and put her feet on its bench. "May we show the Grounders how the Sky people celebrate!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so here is Part 1 of chapter nine. Chapter ten will begin right after this one.  
> I loved writing this chapter, and have been waiting for it to happen for like three chapters now so yay! Clarke's back to Arkadia and shit's going down. Love it. 
> 
> Thank you so much for you feedbacks and kudos.


	10. Not a chapter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not a chapter !!

Hi guys, it's me. Back again with no update.

So sorry for the lack of updates and news about Healing but life's been crazy. I'm in college now, studying psychology and my mental health has been acting out for a few weeks now. I have so many meetings with doctors and psychologists and others, so I really don't have the time to write. It should start to calm down in October, hopefully.

And no, I'm not ending this fanfic, yet. It still hasn't changed since the beginning, I don't really know where I'm going except for some ideas, just going with the "flow".

Please, don't forget to take your medication and seek help when you're not okay. I've been dealing with depression, anxiety and other shits for 6 years because they were not treated and it's tiring and frightening.

 

I hope you are doing okay. I'll take down this message when I'll update. ♡

Marine


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